


The curse of silence

by Morrie_Wilde



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Betrayal, Blood, Camlot, Character Death, Complete, DI Pendragon, Dark Comedy, Death, Detective Story, Disturbing Themes, Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship, Funny moments to brighten the fic, Graphic Description, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Investigations, M/M, Major Character Injury, Manslaughter, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Organized Crime, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scandal, Sex, Suicide, Torture, Triggers, Underage Sex, Violence, content warning, implicit graphic content, knights of the round table - Freeform, no happy ending, puking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 65,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrie_Wilde/pseuds/Morrie_Wilde
Summary: Five years ago, Uther Pendragon was brutally stabbed to death in a motel. In his quest to solve his father's murder, DI Pendragon quickly finds the man who took Uther's life.But why was Merlin, the jovial owner of the Crown, a small pub down in Camlot, alone at the Essetir with Uther that night? And why, despite an easy investigation, has he never been brought to justice?As hundreds of nameless faces and faceless names are now staring back at him, Arthur realises he is facing something bigger than he had ever imagined, and maybe, just maybe, Merlin is not the cold blooded murderer he had appeared to be.Note : CONTENT WARNING FOR CHAPTER 5, 6 AND 7 - PLEASE READ THE TAGS - complete
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See end of chapter for notes.

**THE CURSE OF SILENCE**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Camlot was grey on this Monday morning. The perfectly green grass were leaving pearls of water on Merlin's boots as he walked through the park, on his way to work. He could never be bothered to take the long way, and the view he had from here was wiping away any discomfort from his soaked leather boots anyway.

The town was built around the old ruins of what used to be, once upon a time, the most magnificent castle this land had ever known. Or at least, it is how Merlin likes to imagine it. The stones were now blacken from the notorious bad weather, the towers lost they grandeur, menacing to crumble sometime soon, the roof was long gone, so was most of the woodwork. And yet, on this made up isle, in the heart of the city, surrounded by its water and highlands remains, it looked breathtaking.

This is why Merlin came here to open his café. He came across this lovely cottage, from which you could see the sun rising from the fallen towers and decided it was it. Could it even be called a coffee shop? A pub ? No one really knew, and no one really cared. That's the thing with small towns : the definition of a place hardly matters, if the place is warm and welcoming. So for a few years now, this town was his home and he loved it.

And the people loved him. Being the only place around opened from 8am to 11pm, everybody had, at least once, stopped at the Crown, and if that day, the fire was not burning in the corner, then Merlin's smile was always here to warm up the room. It was a fact, Merlin was cherished by the city, known as the man who cared, truthfully. Some were concerned about him though, as the Crown was open seven days a week, sixteen hours a day and he was the only worker. But as the days, weeks, months and finally years went by, the town came to term with it : Merlin was hardworking, passionate and they had to stop telling him to get some rest - or worst - holidays. Apart from that, they had to admit that...they knew nothing about the young boy. He was great at small chitchat, but he was a master in the art of answering a question without giving any information. Some even came to speculate that the boy was not existing outside of the cottage. No one has ever seen him buying groceries ( some says he doesn't even eat and it's hardly unbelievable as he is just skin and bones), or going for a walk, nor nothing. It was also known that he had an distinctive charm which earned him a pretty impressive stack of napkin and coasters with phone numbers scribbled down, more than generous tips and endless offers to go out for a drink, from women and men, of all ages. Famously , Merlin declined every single one of them. Obviously, those were just small town gossips, and the way people had to hide, behind idle rumours, their concerns for Merlin.

And so, on this Monday morning, he was on his way to open the Crown , again. The keys let the big wooden door open and he walked in. And just like that, his choreography started: turning off the alarm, turning on the lights, turning on the oven, turning on the dishwasher, grinding fresh coffee, making one for himself, popping the pastries in the oven, lighting on a cigarette, downing his coffee, making an other one, recounting the till, checking the safe, re lighting his cigarette, cleaning the bar full of ash, putting the pastries on display, turning on the background music, throwing his cigarette butt in the sink, putting on a smile and welcoming his first clients.

"Morning Merl! Had a good weekend?". It was Gwaine, always cheerful, no matter the time of the day. Merlin was even more amazed considering the other man was showing no signs of a hangover, not even a tiny ounce of pain.

"Clearly not as good as yours mate! Spend my time refilling your glass, and making sure you would not die chocking on your own sick", he shouted back with a big grin, placing a really weak latte on the bar. Merlin always had to look away as Gwaine put an atrocious amount of sugar in his warmed milk he dared to call a coffee. Merlin even thought about pouring him an actual cup of warm milk to see if he could tell the difference.

''Oy, done it again didn't I?". The room was quickly filled with their laughter. "Seriously though, how much do I owe you? I doubt my drunk self thought about paying the bill, the selfish bastard!" , he finally said, taking his wallet out of his chest pocket."What about fifty quid and a pack of fags?"

"That'll do!" Said Merlin, snatching the bills out of Gwaine's hand, an amused look on his face." Now, even if I love talking with you, it's 8:15 and I'm pretty sure I see Percy angrily pacing on the sidewalk."

"Not my fault mate, they want me to start working at 8! How am I supposed to have coffee with my favourite guy in town when his place opens at 8?", he winked and -not so- gracefully, jumped off the bar stool, downing his coffee.

" I don't know, make coffee at home", shouted Merlin towards the door as Gwaine was leaving.

"Not a chance Merl!". Merlin smiled to himself at the stupidity of his friend, cleaning the sugary mess on the bar. Gwaine was lucky to have Percy as a boss, as the man gave up trying to make Gwaine start on time. Because, even if Percy was a mountain of a man, his heart and kindness were definitely as big as him.

The morning went on nicely. Few coffees here, few English fry ups there. At 11am, all the pastries were gone, and coffees were quickly replaced by beers and ciders ( and a shot of whiskey for Gwaine, but no one had to know that right ?). Gwen also passed by for her lunch break. As a social worker, she really appreciated to have Merlin to talk to. No matter how much she loved her job, she had to admit that some days were more mentally and physically draining than others. She was not working in Camlot itself, always on the move, depending were her new cases were bringing her. And recently, there had been a really big scandal in the region, something to do with neglect in an orphanage. Gwen was now giving mental support to some of the small victims, and helping in the search for a new home for them. Seeing children whose innocent had been ripped away so quickly shook her up more than she cared to admit. She saw the rooms, the mess, the smell, the bruises. She heard the screams and the cries.

He served her some apple juice, and some homemade cinnamon rolls he kept on the side for her. She smiled. He had to admit that being able to make his friend smile was a little victory for himself, however, he quickly couldn't give her all his attention as the place was slowly starting to fill up. Half an hour later, she left, not without waving at him through the door, at which he could do nothing but smile, his hands full of dirty plates.

The lunch rush went smoothly, especially as it was well known that Merlin was cooking all by himself, so no one complained about the waiting time. And to be fair, even without a chef, or any other kind of help, there wasn't really anything to complain about. Merlin knew his job, sure, but he was even extraordinarily good at it. Besides his legendary clumsiness. And even that was gone when he was in a rush. But, yes, once most of the tables were gone, he might have once, or twice ( ...per day ), tripped over his own feet. He also had a constant bruises above his hip as, even after all this time, he keeps bumping into the bar. And let's not talk about his glassware invoices. He actual has a delivery set once a month to replace glasses.

Now that the Crown was empty, the worst part of his day started. Usually, from 3pm to 5pm, it was quiet, really quiet. And no matter how many times he would dust the place or clean anything and everything, no one was there to distract him from his thoughts. And god, that is why he was working so much, to not have to think, to just be so exhausted that once home, he could just fall asleep in a blink of an eye. Any other day, this dreadful time of the afternoon would have been just that, dreadful, but he did not sleep in two days and he could feel he was gonna break down soon. You see, it's just that forcing yourself to smile makes you somewhat happy, but once there is no one, you are just left to look in the mirror and you know you aren't smiling anymore and with no reason to pretend, you won't anyway. It's funny though, he heard so many gossips about himself over time. He heard he used to be a drug addict and that working was his new shot, that he had his heart broken and decided to live his former life behind and move to the countryside but his favourite was that he actually was a sorcerer , and that's how he could run the Crown by himself and never look tired. Truth being, he wished one of those stories were true. It seemed so much easier to deal with a broken heart than...nevermind.

He stepped outside to have a cigarette and wait for the new wave of people that should come soon. Halfway through his smoke break, he set his eyes on a blond man. He was not from here, or at least, Merlin had never seen him. The foreigner looked towards the Crown and his demeanour seemed to change. He was standing taller, and his eyes were locked on the place. His whole body exhaled determination. Before Merlin could register what was going on, the man was standing right in front of him, his eyes judging Merlin from head to toe.

"Merlin Emrys?". His voice was dry. Merlin quickly put on his signature smile. He tried not to show any sign of panic but it has been years since anyone used this family name. In Camlot, he was known as Merlin Hunithson, and no one ever questioned it. He dropped the remains of his cigarette in the ashtray nearby.

"Depends. What can I do for you?". The other man looked over his shoulder and glanced inside the pub discreetly before grabbing Merlin by the arm, and dragging him inside.

"DI Pendragon, Scotland yard." The police man spoke in almost a whisper and was clearly on edge. Merlin's heart missed a beat and his normally bright blue eyes seemed to darkened. He passed a hand through his messy black hair and tried to regain composure but before he could speak, the detective cleared his throat and added "even though, I am here unofficially". It didn't reassure Merlin, at all.

"How can I help you?". His smile was long gone and he hoped his words came out as natural, not letting any bits of worriness through.

"Pour me a cider, would you?". Merlin gave back an awkward grin and stepped behind the bar, banging his hip in the process, letting out a small cry. "Nervous much?" The man voice was now louder and in that tone, the kind that made you feel you were being interrogated even if it seems you were not.

"No, just clumsy." He rolled his eyes while pouring the drink. He was too tired to even bother being his cheerful self, and definitely too tired to pretend in front of him. He just wished this would be over with. Oh, sure he had hoped that after years of being left alone, no one would bother to look for him anymore ( if they ever looked for him in the first place) but he always knew deep inside that this day would come. He just never imagined it would be a Pendragon who would one day walked through the door of the Crown. He put the pint on the bar, slamming the glass harder than intended. He leaned on the counter behind him and crossed his arms on his chest.

"Cheers! Now tell me, you are not from here now, are you?" Arthur broke the silence. The eyes of the man were like the eyes of a cat playfully watching a mice agonising.

"You know the answer, you prat!" Merlin gave up on all his self control and grabbed a tea towel drying on top the coffee machine. Annoyingly polishing glasses might not be threatening but he needed something to focus on and not explode right here, right now.

"Indeed, I do." The detective seemed taken aback by the insult. In those circumstances, he would have thought he would have been the one calling names. Before he could add anything, Merlin started again.

" How dare you come here. I haven't set foot in London for more than five years now, yet, here you are, sitting at my bar like you're an old friend! It doesn't work like that. Those things don't work like that. It's unfair. It is bloody unfair" Merlin was talking more to himself than anything else now, anger quickly overshadowed by agony and distress.

"What's unfair is that you killed my father and never paid for it." Arthur Pendragon. The man standing here was Uther's son. From the whole family, it had to be the son. Merlin looked like he just saw a ghost from the past. And now, he could not take his eyes off the man. His face morphing with Uther's. The words echoed in the room, falling flat like Merlin's heartbeat. Shortly after, the noise of broken glass filled the room, as Merlin dropped everything, barely holding himself on his feet.

Arthur took a long sip of his cider, sighed and walked behind the bar. Putting Merlin's arm around his neck, he dragged the almost inert body out and sat him in one of the booth in the back. He quickly came back with a glass of water and sat opposite Merlin. Arthur stared at the man, or more the shadow of the man left beyond his eyes. He looked a decade older when in reality, he could not be older than early thirties. His eyes were lost in nothing, his hands were loosely resting on his thighs and if someone had walked in right now, they would not have recognised the famously bubbly Merlin. After what seemed to be an eternity, Merlin locked his eyes in Arthur’s.

"What do you want, detective?". His voice was calm and low but his eyes contained all the emotions known to the human soul. He placed his arms on the table, interlacing his fingers and leaning slightly towards Arthur, who couldn't stare back.

"Don't...Do not call me detective. As I said, I am here unofficially." Saying Arthur was unaffected by the man reaction was a lie. At this moment, the man in front of him practically confessed. He was shaken not as much by facing his father's murderer, than by a clear incompetence from the justice system and from his colleagues. It took him six months of investigating ( on his free time ) to find this Merlin Emrys, who was a serious suspect and yet, here they were, five years after the crime, sitting in a pub like nothing happened.

"Is you being here unofficially changing anything? Because as far as I'm concerned, I just confessed to a detective didn't I". Merlin laugh was forced and a mockery of Merlin Hunithson. He stood up and grabbed his cigarettes. Arthur followed him back at the bar and grabbed a coaster from the pile sitting on the bar. He patted his pockets and without a word, Merlin dropped a pen on the bar, and walked outside. Not long after, Arthur walked passed him and without any further words, disappeared in the streets. Rubbing a hand against his face, Merlin took a deep breath, finished his smoke and walked back in, seeing some regulars coming towards the Crown. He made himself a black coffee and before anyone walked in, poured a tear of whiskey in it. His eyes caught the coaster on the bar. Mindlessly, he grabbed it and turned it over.

Meet me here at 2am tonight.

Before Merlin could react, people walked in, and here he was, pouring two pints, smiling from this legendary smile of his, bouncing over the place like a clumsy bunny.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

The evening went without incident. Gwaine stopped by for a pint ( or five ) with Percy. They laughed a bit too loud and spilled too many drinks but the atmosphere was light and joyful. The sun was long gone and the street were deserted, lighten by warm orange lights, struggling to cut through the evening fog. It was cold, even for early October, and the people happily gathered inside the Crown to enjoy a cold drink by the chimney. Merlin loved the cold weather, as it was the perfect excuse to be surrounded by cheerful people, all leaving their work and problems at the door.

Gwen, being her overly kind self, stopped by to give Merlin some homemade brownies as a thank you for cheering her up. He eagerly accepted, having a soft spot for anything chocolate related, and assured her it was nothing, and if she needed to talk again, he would be there, anytime. She left smiling, waving at Gwaine and Percy. That’s what Merlin didn’t miss from London : the lack of connection. Here, everybody knows everybody, and there is always someone willing to share a pint. Of course, London was great, for a while. He was born in Wales, in a small village and at the end of the day, it was in small places he felt more at home. Would he have left London if... probably, yes. One day, he would have. It was sheer luck that on his visit to Camlot, Gaius happened to be putting up the cottage for sale and Merlin never regretted it. The old man said the place was too big for him now and he preferred to live all year long in a smaller townhouse down the church. Born and bred in Camlot, Gaius helped introduced Merlin to everybody. And within two months and the help of the villagers, the Crown rose from the cottage, becoming the heart of the town. Gaius could often be seen at the Crown, sipping a cup of green tea, nose in an old book. As the town historian, he was always keen on sharing his knowledge with the people : from the buildings history, to myths and legend. But what Merlin preferred was listening to the old man babbling about Camlot Castle and its glorious past. Merlin smiled at the old man who was here tonight, and started cleaning around to close the Crown.

At 10:45pm, everybody was gone. He sighed at the pile of glasses to be polished before grabbing a cloth and wiping down all the tables. By 11, only the floor was left to brush and mop and he would then be free to go home and sleep. Half an hour later, as he was turning off everything and setting on the alarm, he banged his head in despair on the wooden door. He totally forgot that he was not done for the night and before he could think more, the alarm echoed through the place : lost in thoughts, he forgot the fifteen second window to leave and close the building. He groaned and entered the code, before throwing his brown jacket on the booth and undoing his blue scarf. He let his feet conduct him behind the bar and grabbed himself a ginger beer. He had more than two hours to kill before meeting Arthur again and he was not looking forward to it at all. From under the till, he grabbed a massive pile of paperwork and concluded that getting this done would distract him long enough. Not that he was messy nor anything, and as the only worker, he knew what was going on but well, there might be one or two unpaid invoices. He grabbed his glasses from a small brown leather case next to his cigarette pack and got back to work.

At the same moment, on the other side of town, Arthur was pacing through his hotel room. Under other circumstances, he would have appreciated the old building and tasteless yet cozy room. The lady -Alice- in charge of the place, had been lovely and made sure he had everything he would need. He glanced at his watch and put the kettle on. Why did he thought coming here was a good idea? And all for what? Revenge? Closure? Was he just being a nosy prat ? Because , you see, he didn’t come across his father’s case by accident, he had to look for it, for years. He kept being told that it was lost, it was a cold case, it was not his department... And truth being told, the mystery around his father’s death was more interesting to Arthur that actually finding who did it. Especially, as stated before, it took him less than six months, for a total of a shy twelve hours of actual work to find out who did it. Yes, he would admit he was good at his job, really good ( which made him one of the youngest DI in Scotland Yard history, at only thirty one ), but this was an easy case, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact the this man – Merlin – was never brought to justice. His instinct told him there were more behind it all but staring at the window from his hotel room, on this gloomy night, he was not even sure that keeping on looking was worth it anymore.

He inhaled deeply, leaving all pessimistic thoughts on the side, clapped his hands together and rushed back to the small corner table where all kind of pictures and documents were covering every inches of wood. Right. He mentally listed all that he knew as a certainty about the case. Uther was murdered in a motel in the west London on the evening of November 30th. It will be six years next month. The room had been rented in the name of Emrys, no record of his father's name anywhere on the registry, yet, on the call made to the police that same evening, the owner, Agravaine, referred to his father by his full name, which meant that Arthur highly suspected the two men knew each other, one way or an other. The fatal blow was a stabbing wound right in his trachea, making him physically drown in his own blood. The knife was still on the crime scene and it has been confirmed to be part of the cutlery set from the room. Some minor defensive wounds were present on Uther's fingers and right palm, indicating he did put up a fight. The body was found lying on the bed, face buried in the mattress. On the bed, they also found a red scarf which had been identified as the one the young man occupying the room wore on the same morning. Nothing got stolen. No sexual assault. And this is where Arthur had a problem : not who did it. But why. He imagined many different scenarii that would explain why his father was in that motel that night but nothing. And no connection had been established between Utter and Merlin. Or at least, this is what the pile of documents in front of him were saying. He had to admit that there hasn't been a thorough investigation conducted. He only had basic information and it looked like they just .... dropped the case and tried to bury it. They. He didn’t even knew who they were. Colleagues? Superior? Politicians? Powerful business men ? His father was at the head of one the most prolific bank in Europe, specialised in loopholes, to ensure the rich would keep their money. Rich was an understatement. His father’s bank had just one requirement to open a bank account : ten millions pounds. No question asked about the provenance or the use of such money. You just had to have it. And Arthur was shocked to discover that in this business, not only was his Father's known around the globe, but he was the most trusted banker there was. Not an enemy to account for. And as cold and calculated his father was, Arthur had to admit he was cleverly twisted. Uther studied the laws and figured out all the small prints in his – and in his bank – advantage and file a patent for his business, which meant his bank was the one and only of his kind, totally legal and too good to get rid of Uther.

This is something that Uther passed on Arthur. His obsession for the rules. Everything had to be done how it should be, follow the protocol, follow the rules. This is why Arthur decided so young to enter at Scotland Yard, to make his father proud. To ensure the rules were followed and that anyone who did not were to be punished in consequences. But his father also taught Arthur an other lesson : being a right man doesn’t make you a good one. No matter how much he wanted to make his father proud, deep inside him, he had always despised the man. Or at least, despised the father Uther was, as he was not a father. A teacher, a professor, a boss but not, in any case, a father. And Arthur had hated him for it. But that was not a reason not to get justice.

He glanced at his watch again, and sighed. It was time. He collected all the mess on the table and packed it and put on his long trench coat. On his way out, he caught his reflection on the small mirror on the wall. He looked miserable. A small fifteen minutes walk later, here he was again, standing in front of the Crown. He could see some light coming through the small windows and knocked on the door.

Merlin jumped at the knock and looked at the clock above the bar. 2am. The man was punctual. He stood up, knocking off a pile of stock count sheets on the floor. Groaning, he walked at the door and opened it, gesturing to Arthur to come in, and quickly closed the door behind him, to not let the warmth escape the cozy room. Without a word, Merlin walked back to the booth and collected all the fallen papers, placing them back on an other pile and put the whole lot under the till. He took off his glasses and placed them back as well, rubbed his eyes and slightly stretched his arms above his head.

“Cider?” it was the first word that had been pronounced since Arthur arrived. The silence was heavy, and none of the two men wanted to be here tonight. Arthur was afraid of what he might find, Merlin was afraid of what he might remember. Years had gone by, and even if you never truly forget, you learn to tidy up those things and lock it somewhere as self preservation. The faces stay, the names go, the dates and places are confused and now, it’s just a big ball of mess that you can’t put back in order. And now that Merlin started his new life as Merlin Hunithson, there was nothing and no one to tell him he was not crazy, that it did all happened. In his new life, he was the only witness left from a past no one knew existed. Merlin often thought about London and how thing were there but it just made his stomach ache ,the tears flow and his body shake, so with the years, he managed to create his own bubble : he was living in Camlot and nothing else mattered. It is why he love the ruins, once called a castle. It is a reminder that London is long behind him.

“Umh, yes please.” Arthur voice was detached, as he was sitting down were Merlin previously were. He put the documents on the table and considered just leaving everything and going back to the hotel. He was taken back to the present time as the pint was put next to him. Merlin sat opposite him, giving a shy look at the pictures facing him.

“Is that...”

“Yes.” Arthur cut him. Merlin’s eyes were locked on a picture on his left side. Uther could be seen lying on a cold metal table. Head and torso were pale and the stitched up red ‘Y' shaped on his body was contrasting with the coldness of the whole picture. His neck had been cleaned and a clear stab wound was visible. Smaller stab wounds could be seen on his left collarbone, clearly stopped from getting deeper by the apparent bone. Merlin grabbed the pictures with a shaking hand and after inspection, throw it back on the table, clearly angry and distressed as he stood up to pour himself a beer.

Arthur has seen too many of this pictures to associate them with any feelings, even now, looking at the one his father was on. His eyes were only seeing clues and MO*, theories and hypotheses, nothing more.

Once Merlin came back, the silence between them stretched even more. After downing his beer in few glups, Merlin laid his back against the booth, rubbed his hands on his face, exhaled and locked his eyes on the dark wooden ceiling.

“I didn’t plan it. It just happened that night. He... The knife... I kept a knife under the pillow in case someone would come to... But Uther came in and asked me to... I said no. I won’t. No more, I told him. He got angry and... I was on the bed. He slapped me and he kept screa-...He was screaming so loud...He kept saying I was ... I was .... And before I could think twice... I grabbed the knife and...and...” He looked down at the table again and dismissively gestured at the pictures of Uther's dead body.

Arthur stared at Merlin, confused as to what he should do next. He just confessed explicitly, in front of him but Merlin looked haunted. And what worried Arthur furthermore, is that the murder seems to be the last thing on Merlin’s mind right now. He knew it. He knew something else needed to be told to have the full truth. And Arthur was ready to not only investigate the man sitting at the same table as him, but also his own father.

“Alright Merlin. Let’s talk about something else alright? Tell me more about you, would you? How did you ended up in London in the first place ?” Arthur knew he sounded like the DI he is right now but he really wanted to keep Merlin talking now that the man opened up a bit more. He hoped a less painful subject would help the other man to collect his thoughts. He also turned over the picture of the body in hope it would help Merlin’s distress. It was not about getting a confession anymore, it was about getting answers.  
Arthur got surprised at Merlin’s slight laugh. The man sat straighter and for the first time, actually looked at Arthur.

“Small talk is it now?”. Merlin was clearly surprised at the change of topic but was feeling slightly more composed. He stood up for an other beer and silently offer an other one to the inspector, who accepted. While pouring the drinks, Merlin stated “ I was born in Ealdor , a small lost village in Wales. Grew up with my Ma, Da was gone before I was born. Lived a pretty normal life, you know.” He sat back at the table and took a sip. “we didn’t have a lot of money but Ma always managed to put a warm plate on the table. But she had bigger plans for me . You see, she kept saying I was a clever boy and she wished I could go abroad to study but she didn’t have the money for me yada yada yada.” Arthur smiled at the banality with which Merlin was telling the story of his childhood. “ but when I was ten, the mayor let us know a private school in London was handing over scholarships for less fortunate kids and Ma took her chance. We filled up the application and got asked to go to London to pass an exam and I got in. The next August, I was on the train direction London. Here’s how I ended up there.” Merlin’s voice was suddenly lower and tinted with sadness and lost. He seemed to be very interested with the content of his glass and was clearly holding back tears.

“How was the school then?” Arthur had no clue what this reaction was about and wondered if he wanted to know.

“It was alright. Got good grades but never graduated. I had a best friend. Will. Don’t know where he is now.” Merlin hold back a sob on that statement but quickly swallowed and drank more. “now listen DI Pendragon.” Arthur got taken by surprise by the sudden change of tone and the use of his official title. He was about to shout back that he should just call him Arthur but he didn’t have the time before Merlin carried on. “ I’ll admit my guilt in what happened to Uther, to your father but stop looking into this please. There is a reason I left London and Uther's death had almost nothing to do with it. Have you never wondered why your father’s folder was just seven pages thick? Why I never got arrested even when the most stupid police officer could I’ve guessed I did it? My crime changed nothing. I did...for three years I did my best to stop all this but nothing. Every body was suddenly blind when I was presenting them solid proof and even after I... even after Uther’s death, nobody looked into it. Because it is how it is Detective : the little perfect you and all the little posh prat in London are living in, a perfect bubble created by daddy, you are all too stubborn and formatted to see that your own very world is rotten to the core. I got no help for years! And five years later, you come looking for me, for the death of this monster when truly, I should be the bloody victim here! Your father had a peaceful death compared to what he deserved and mark my words Arthur Pendragon, if I could, I would kill your father again, but this time, I would made him suffer like he made all of us suffered.” Merlin's tone was suddenly calm and Arthur felt a chill going down his spine, as the skinny clumsy dark haired man now standing in front of him, with darkened eyes and locked jaw looked like a storm ready to tore this whole place. “Get. Out.”. Arthur didn’t move, more from shock than a desire to confront the other man. After what seemed an eternity, Arthur collected all seven pages and left, with more questions than actual answers. Before he realised, he was back at the hotel, sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes foggy and blood pumping. He looked at his watch. 4am. How did this meeting lasted two hours? He didn’t know. At this moment, he didn’t know what he knew. He was lost and confused and tired.

Back at the Crown, Merlin poured himself a third pint, trying to drown the overflow of emotions that came upon him. 4am. He decided that to keep drinking until he had to open the place should be a better plan that attempting to go home and sleep. He didn’t want to sleep anyway. The mention of Will, of the school, the sight of Uther’s dead body was enough for him to have nightmare while awake. Three hours later, and five more pints, everything was ready. He still had an hour to kill before opening but it didn’t matter anymore. He opened the door to the Crown. At 7.50am, a surprised Gwaine passed the door to salute Merlin.

“Morning Merl ! I hope you aren’t opening earlier just so I can be on time at work once in my life ?” His laugh filled the air and Merlin was glad for it, as Gwaine was slowly bringing back Merlin Hunithson to the surface, leaving Emrys in London, where he belonged.

“ you wish! I just had nothing else to do!” Merlin tried to pretend it was all good but Gwaine could clearly see he was pissed. At 8am. He raised an eyebrow at the young man, especially as it was common knowledge that Merlin was not a drinker. The closest thing to alcohol that man ever had was an overbrewed cup of black tea. Without thinking further more, Gwaine got behind the bar, warmed up some milk ( making a mess in the process), poured half a shot of coffee and six packs of sugar. Grabbed a croissant and set up everything on the bar. He then dragged Merlin to sit him on one of the stool.

“Alright mate, no question asked, we all need to get wasted time to time innit ? Now come on, bottoms up!”  
Merlin growled at the view of Gwaine favourite hot beverage and grimaced at the first sip.

“Come on, choppy choppy! My own recipe to sober up ! Never fails! And that’s what you need right now mate! And don’t forget the croissant !” Merlin shyly smiled.

“You're telling me you come every morning for this drink to ... sober up?” Merlin could not hide his laughter anymore. That was so Gwaine. He reluctantly finished everything.

“...Maybe?” Gwaine's smile was reaching his ears. He patted Merlin’s back and grabbed a croissant for himself. Flakes from the pastries were flying everywhere as Gwaine move towards the door.

“ ‘Right, got to go! See you later “. Or at least, that is what Merlin understood as the man was talking with his mouth way too full. He went to the loos to refresh himself, and as his eyes met the mirror, he put on his legendary smile, shook himself up, bounced a bit on his feet and clapped , making the noise echoed in the empty bathroom.

“Alright Hunithson, it’s show time!.” And just like that, he came out and carried on his day like nothing happened. People might have noticed he was more clumsy that usual, and kept massaging his temples, but if they did notice, no one said a thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *MO : Modus Operandi, a particular way or method of doing something.
> 
> A big thanks to Underthisrain for being a great beta, as usual. 
> 
> This story is just about to get way darker in the upcoming chapters, the tags will then be updated to avoid unwanted triggers. As the story goes on, there will more depiction of graphic violence and violent act. 
> 
> And are we not all wondering : what could have happened? 
> 
> Thank you very much much for reading, I'll see you in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back for the third chapter, please enjoy!

**CHAPTER THREE**

Tuesday morning, Arthur was on his way back to London. The train was crowded but he never felt so lonely. He went back to his office in Scotland Yard at noon and called Leon to present him the latest developments on the ongoing cases. He worked with Leon for a decade now and considered him he most trusted and esteemed colleague, as far to even call him a friend. When Arthur learnt about Uther’s death, Leon was here for him and helped him focus on his work and getting his life back to normal. He also helped with his father legacy and selling the bank. Arthur had the desire to keep the business in the private domain to keep the integrity and value of his father. After an hour long presentation, Arthur was more than satisfied with the progress his team made. The suspect for the murder of a young woman just confessed – jealous ex boyfriend who just could not live without her, or so he says, and the robberies that were happening down in Kensington were now officially linked thanks to prodigious advancement in DNA technology. Hopefully, within the next few days, it would be a match in their database and the case would quickly closed.  
His eyes ventured on his father's folder that he had left on his desk and after biting his lips and letting out a big sigh, he stoop up to lock his office door. Leon did not seem really concerned about it and just waited for Arthur to grab a sit but he didn’t. He stayed standing by the window, staring down at the sea of people walking the streets. Arthur loved London. It had always been his home and he couldn’t dream of a better place to live. They say you have to be Londoner to love living in London but he could just not understand how someone could not fall in love with the Swinging City.

“Inspector?” Leon’s voice was slightly concerned now. “ Arthur?” it was now the friend talking. Arthur got startled a bit but planted his feet firmly in the ground again. He put his hand in his trousers pocket, hearing the voice of his father complaining that when a suit is perfectly tailored, nothing should ever be in those pocket, in the risk of damaging the whole fit of the fabric. As an old habit, he quickly took of his hands out of his pockets.

“What I am about to say now is confidential and unofficial. There is no ongoing investigation at this present time. Consider this a chat between two friends. This is to never be spoken again outside of this room, or until I come up to you. Understood?” Arthur was now facing Leon, palms resting on his desk, knuckles white from the weight if his body. Seeing a nod from Leon was all Arthur needed to sit down. He took a deep breath and handing him the folder. Leon glanced over the little information there was and looked back at Arthur, expecting a little more than those seven pages.

“ November 30TH, my father was stabbed to death. I know who did it.” Arthur hold his hand in the air to not get interrupted. “ But I am interested in the why. Mr. Emrys confessed to me and before you ask, no, there is no audio recordings or signed confessions. His confession had no clear motive, yet clear intention. I want to know why, and I want you to help me. We are going to investigate the life of Uther Pendragon.”. It was not an order, it was a fact. Arthur pulled out a single sheet of paper. “ This is Merlin Emrys, now known has Merlin Hunithson. He is unknown to our services. The guy has never even stolen sweets when he was a kid. Now tell, how does this boy ended up in a motel room with the most powerful banker of his time and stabbed him to death?” Arthur crossed his arms on his chest, waiting for a second opinion. No matter how many times he looked at the information, nothing made sense. Merlin was twenty six, from a small Welsh village and yet, he got caught up in this big web of mess. He tried to understand but it just didn’t make sense.

“ Do we know what Merlin was doing in London?” Leon asked, after reading Merlin’s information sheet.  
“ At ten years old, he got a scholarship to enter a school here. He left the city at twenty one. In those eleven years, god knows what he was up to. Clearly, if he was dealing or something, he has never been caught, there is no record. He also told me he never graduated. His NIN* history only has his current business, the Crown so it seems he never worked before that. The boy was just a London ghost. Some could even doubt Merlin Emrys has even existed.”

“Which school?” Leon asked, more out of curiosity that the certainty it could be lead. He just had an intuition... a bit feeling of something shady going on. When he helped to sell Uther’s business, few things seemed...out of place but the man had the reputation to always follow the book, no matter what and Leon never gave it that much thought. He kept reading the single sheet of paper which resumed Merlin London life but he had to follow Arthur on this one : nothing made sense.

“Project Excalibur. Specialised in helping the families in need thorough the country by giving a higher education to the children. The kids need to apply, conduct an interview and pass an exam. After that, it’s an untraditional path : they graduate at seventeen and are being helped through connection to find jobs at the city**. Specialised in accounting, business, management and those sort of things. It’s not the kind of school you leave to become a baker or a florist.”  
Leon looked at Arthur, with big round eyes, expecting the other man to react. Arthur ended rolling his eyes and letting out an annoyed “What?”.

“Project Excalibur : Here’s your connection! They built the school twenty seven years ago!” Leon said proudly, looking up on his phone the history. Arthur was still really confused and kept reading the article about the school on and on. Leon knew he must sound crazy and he himself wished he would have seen it earlier.  
“Ygraines Bank is twenty seven years old too. Or at least, your father filed a patent twenty seven years ago.” Arthur was dumbfounded. That could not be the connection. That could merely be considered a coincidence. Especially as he never heard his father mention anything about a school or helping poor kids with potential to get a fair chance in life.  
“No Arthur, hear me out.” Leon’s palm were sweating and he tried his best to not sound crazy. But he had to admit that something always seemed off about Uther’s business and fortune, especially the start. “ After his death, his patent was sold for 8.3 billions. This is more than Microsoft or any supermassive company. Especially as no corporation won the bet, it was bought by a private party. A very rich private party. The question is, how did your father paid for his patent in the first place?” Arthur had no idea where Leon was going with this. But he was almost certain money had nothing to do with his father death's. If it was, Merlin had probably gotten the worst contract ever if living in Camlot and working his arse off were all he could afford after the execution.  
“But clearly Leon, the patent Uther filed was not 8.3 billions.”

“No no, it wasn’t, but it was a long and tedious process. The best lawyers in the country were involved, it went on for years. In the business circle, they talked about it as being unprecedented. The final patent was millions Arthur. And ever if I know your family was never poor in the first place, how did your father paid for the whole process and filed the patent?” Leon wasn’t even convincing himself but he thought it was worth giving it a shot. “and the same year, Excalibur opens, giving away scholarship to give access to a higher education for poor kids and is still running to that day. No one knows about this school. How are they making money ? They are privatised so it must be by donation. But someone funded it twenty seven years ago, and clearly, someone who had the resources. Maybe that same person helped your father with the patent twenty seven years ago and did not look at the numbers once the patent was put up on sell five years ago, and bought it, as they had to keep Ygraines Bank in their private circle.”

Arthur was lost for words. Everything escalated too quickly. From a murder in motel, it went to conspiracy theories and hidden purposes. Leon seemed stressed, moving his left leg up and down, fixing his sigh on Arthur, trying to get any kind of reaction from the man. This is the first time Leon ever talked about this theory out loud and he really hoped he didn’t sound that crazy. Leon always had an eye opened for Project Excalibur, as what seemed to be such a noble idea and concept, no one barely knew about it, they were no fundraising events and yet, they had their school in the centre of London, with some of the most respectable teachers. Leon was a pragmatic man, and always privileged a zetetic mind, questioning everything. And if someone were to claim a conspiracy was hiding under their nose, no one would think Leon to be that man. And yet, the Project Excalibur was breaking down all the codes for those kind of charitable teaching unit.

“Alright Leon, let’s step down a bit. Even if what you were saying was true. It’s still doesn’t explain why, does it?” Leon had a frown and sighed. The thing is, Scotland yard was full of rumours about corruption and deep inside, he believed that Arthur was really onto something, something big. And he had his idea but accusing the father of his friend, even off the record, was almost treason especially when the crimes were so...anyway, it was idle rumours. And no man should build his case on rumours. But the dots were connecting so perfectly that Leon wished he was wrong for once.  
“ Arthur, keep looking into this but please, you have to know when to stop. About your father's death, I think you should talk with Lance. He might have more information.” And on those words, Leon did not wait for dismissal and left the room. If what Lance had in his possession in the archive is true, then maybe Leon would elaborate more on his gut feeling, but he was told to never speak ill of the dead and only actual evidence would make him talk more.  
Arthur was left with even more questions than answers and felt like the whole world was hiding the truth from him. But years of knowing Leon comforted him in his opinion : he would never throw someone under the bus on simple speculation. Arthur grabbed a bottle of water from his bag. Decisions needed to be taken and so he did, he started to investigate Project Excalibur.

Merlin came home Tuesday evening, and he never felt that exhausted in years. He was still shaken from his encounter with Arthur the prior night, and hangover. He was renting a small room under the roof of a family manor. The owner was never here and Merlin isn’t even sure she would ever returned. Morgana LeFay bought this mansion at the same time Merlin bought the Crown. He would forever be thankful for his luck in Camlot.  
In a small cabinet by his single bed, he kept the remains of his London life. A school uniform from Project Excalibur, few pictures with his friends – Will and Freya – and a purplish scarf his mom knitted when he was just a kid. It’s the only thing he has left of her as she died eight years ago. He had been devastated but promised himself that his mom's name would forever live through his own joie de vivre and that’s how, at the start of his new life, he changed his name to Hunithson. She would now forever be associated with him in his best years and he hoped that he made her proud. He wiped away the tears that build up in the corner of his eyes which set on a small shiny thing. He moved the pictures and picked up a key. His laugh was dry and painfully empty. Through the years, he forgot about it , or refused to remember. He sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers playing with the key mindlessly. Merlin was torn as he believed Arthur was nothing like Uther, yet they were still blood and flesh and he did not wish to put such weight on Arthur’s shoulder...or anybody else's. But for the first time since he was nineteen, someone seemed to care about what happened. Someone wants to listen to Merlin. And that’s all he needed.

He jumped down to the hallway of the mansion, hoping Morgana would keep envelops and stamps in one of the drawer and lucky for him, she did. He grabbed a pen from his back pocket – bad habit of him as all his trousers had a black ink stain in the back – and scribbled the DI's address he had found after a quick internet search. He could only hope that the letter would reach its right destination. From one of the drawer, he grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down, hoping it was readable as his hand kept shaking. He wiped off the paper a fallen tear, folded it with the key inside and dropped the whole thing in the envelope. It was now way past midnight, yet here was Merlin, running in Camlot empty streets, desperately trying to find a letter box. Once he found one and posted the letter, there were no coming back. He sat on the wet pavement, lighted on a cigarette and buried his head in his hand, elbows painfully digging in his knees. Ruffling his hair, he finally stood up, took a long drag and started walking back home. Alone as usual in the big house, he never actually felt so lonely. He felt asleep, clothes still on.

His alarmed ringed and he groaned at the sound. He stood up and went to the bathroom. He stripped down his clothes and jumped in the shower, which was exactly what he needed right now. With a towel tied on his hips, he grabbed a new change of clothes, put on his shoes, and left to open the Crown. He just wanted to laugh with Gwaine and Percy, listen to Gaius babbling about history, snacking on an atrocious amount of chocolate with Gwen, pretending every was fine.

The same morning, Arthur walked in Scotland Yard, and once in his office, he closed the blinds and locked the door. It was 7 am and he was about to look into Project Excalibur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *NIN : National Insurance Number (UK) 
> 
> ** the City is an historical district of London, known as the traders and banks headquarters. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this third chapter. 
> 
> Once again, a massive thanks to my beta, Underthisrain 
> 
> This you next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING : violence ahead.  
> ( please note that my warnings will always be posted at the start at the chapter. A pre warning will be posted at the end for the upcoming chapter.)
> 
> Reminder : this is still a Merthur fic, do not worry. But I really wanted to create an atmosphere and an actual mystery you could speculate about, and I would love to read your theories in the comment. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Arthur was getting nowhere. Sure, the more he looked into it, the more the Project Excalibur seemed shady but he also had to admit that everything was in order. Their license was up to date, all background check for the employees had been conducted and by picking at random since the opening of the school, every registered student was real, and some of the older students, now working business men, even picked up the phone and gladly answered some of the Inspector’s questions. So did some of the professors. So yeah, it was unconventional but it all seemed in order. It was almost too perfect.

The DI was getting tired, mentally exhausted. He looked through the motel as well and Agravaine, the owner, had a perfect credit score, had never been convicted and his place, the Essetir, only had good reviews. So it was not this kind of motel. Arthur felt like the answer was here, under his nose, but he could not bloody see it. Was it it then? He had to believe that Merlin was just a deranged boy at the time and killed Uther without ulterior motives ? Was the boy a drug addict at the time ? Is he still? Was is just some junkie shit show ? He wiped his desk from a gesture of his arm in rage and buried his face into his hand, fuming and, tears of rage rolling down his cheeks.

Merlin served Gwaine with his traditional remedy and didn’t hide his surprise when way past 8am, Percy joined him at the bar and ordered a black coffee.

“You really gave up on me Percy eh?” Gwaine laughed, milk foam still lodged in his stubble.

“If we are gonna start late everyday, you shouldn’t be the only one getting coffee.” Percy grinned with all the kindness in the world, watching Gwaine with such tenderness and mischief.

He quickly turned back to Merlin. “how’s your hangover mate?” Merlin truly laughed at that, because obviously Gwaine would have told him. Merlin did a dramatic pirouette and with a big smile, exclaimed “ I feel like I went to hell and back ! Please end my pain".

Gwaine chocked on his sweet milk, and the three laughed way too much for this early in the morning. The guests ended up complaining about that job they had to do, helping the refurbishment of an old farm but everything had to be done “like old times to keep the integrity of the place" and even if they loved their job, working outside in this cold October was not ideal and they'd rather paint the wall of a really warm house that rebuilding a wall using ancient methods. And today, the weather was being particularly mean, casting a thin layer of ice on the roads.

As they were lost in an other round of laughter, Merlin froze, eyes locked on the entrance of the Crown. The other men turned and saw a man standing there. A foreigner. He was tall and large and Gwaine could briefly see a baseball bat and it happened so fast. The man ran towards the bar, slid on top of the bar and beat up the owner. Merlin could be heard moaning in pain.. Gwaine threw the rest of his beverage at the man's face and grabbed a stool and slammed it on his back. Percival ran behind the bar to extract Merlin in the back room used as a kitchen. Broken glasses and groans could be heard, before Gwaine barged into the kitchen, his upper lips split and holding his shoulder. Merlin was lying on the floor, barely conscious, chocking on blood while trying to breath. He started to cough and winced at the pain, not letting out more than faint crying sounds. Percival left to call for some help. Gwaine, still under shock, was looking at Merlin, desperate. He let out a painful “what the fuck" before grabbing a tea towel on a nearby shelf and trying to clean out some blood from Merlin mouth.

“Va...Valiant.” were the last word to be heard in the kitchen before the black haired man felt unconscious. The sirens were quickly heard in the street and Elyan barged in. He put Merlin on the stretcher and in a blink of an eye, they were on their way to the nearby mediacal center. Gwaine stood in the kitchen for a while before moving back behind the bar and under Percy's judgy eyes, did three shots of whiskey. They ended up calling up Gaius as he probably still had a spare key. The old man walked in a few minutes later, and for the first time in five years, the Crown was closed for the day.

Arthur decided he had no other choice that going to see Lance down in the archives. The man had been working here for years but their field of work meant they didn’t really knew each other. He walked through the basement and knock on the door. A tanned man now stood in the doorway, failing at concealing his surprised expression.

“DI Pendragon? How can I help you?” the man sat back behind his computer, ready to search for anything. Arthur closed the door back behind him.

“ Do you happen to have any evidence bag concerning the Murder of Uther Pendragon that I was not made aware of?” here it was again, the voice reserved for interrogation. But he didn’t have time or energy for politeness. He was loosing patience as Lance was awkwardly moving on his chair, clearly wishing to be somewhere else. “For the record Sir, I didn..”

“This is off the record. I won’t sign any sheet and will forever deny I ever came down here. Now, do you have anything?” the man seemed to relax by those words and opened a drawer in his desk. A small black book was now out in the open. Arthur raised an eyebrow, as it was never mentioned in the listing of Uther's belonging. He could also see the book hadn't be sealed or labelled like any other evidence. He reached out his hand to grab it but before he could, Lance snatched it out of the desk.

“Sir, I have to tell you, I was specifically asked to deny the existence of this. I was ordered to destroy it five years ago but I did not, in case this day would come. Mind you, you never got this from me, understood?” He handed the book to Arthur, who was a little confused to hear Lance speak in such a way, but glad to know that his men were loyal to him, rather than falling under the sweet spell of corruption. Of course, he had always been aware that not everybody could be trusted, even in Scotland Yard, but the few times the hard truth hit him in the face, it was devastatingly unsurprising. He shook the man hand, as a silent deal and walked out as quick as he came in.

Once back in his office, he opened the notebook and sighed. It was a lots of names. Each name had a number next to it, sometimes different, sometimes the same. He read every single one of the names, as if they would give him the answer he so desperately wanted. And it finally ticked...about midway through the pages, he read Merlin’s name. He grabbed the Project Excalibur folder, still lying on the office floor and glanced through it. Merlin was nowhere to be found in the official list. He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and spent the next hours comparing the black notebook with the list, writing down any names like Merlin's. 472 names. It didn’t make sense. He looked at his watch and frowned. Being locked all day in his work office, only responding to emails and phone calls, refusing any unnecessary human interactions and doing overtime was not the best way to not raise suspicion. He grabbed the notebook and his list, shoved them in his bag and put on his coat. As he left the building, the night had long fallen, and from an automatic gesture, hailed a taxi. He let his head rest on the window and went over all the facts again. He was exhausted but his mind was set, he will get to the end of this investigation, no matter the cost.

Camlot had been unusually quiet this Wednesday. With The Crown closed, the people stayed at home and the street were already deserted. The church ranged six times as Gwen walked through the room in which Merlin was resting. It was nothing compared to your big city hospitals. This was a small building converted into a walk in center for the local GP. It had two rooms and basic equipment but for Camlot, it was doing just fine. Elyan was the practitioner, and the town was glad for it. No medical trained student wanted to work in the country side and more and more villages and towns ended up being a medical desert, having to drive sometimes up to thirty miles to find the nearest medical help. But Elyan promised his father, the late blacksmith, that once he would be certified, he would practice in Camlot, no matter the counter offer he would get. His sister, Gwen, was glad for it, as he was her last remains of a family. She received a call in the late morning, letting her know that Merlin had been injured, in lack of a better option as the poor lad had no one to call.

Her eyes were saddened but she was still wearing her perfect smile, presenting a basket of homemade white chocolate and raspberries muffins. She only got a weak smile in return but that was all she could ask for. She placed the basket next to the bed and sat on the only chair in the room.

“Do you want to talk about it?” her voice was soft and compassionate. He could understand now why she her job was in social work. She had a gift for it, making anybody comfortable, no matter the situation.

“ It was nothing Gwen, please do not worry.” He tried his best to reassure her but he could clearly see he failed. As he tried to sit down, he let out a groan of pain, which made her jump to help him in the process. With great difficulty, he reached out his arm and grabbed a muffin. “I need to thank Gwaine and Percy. I don’t know what would have happened if they weren’t there.” He closed his eyes at the idea. Maybe they should not have been here. Everything would have been easier if he had died this morning, on the floor of the Crown. He didn’t want his past to impact the life of the Camlot's inhabitants.  
“Elyan told me. I saw them working on the farm by the main road. Gwaine just has few scratches so don’t dare worry about him. They say that the next round is on you though!” he truly laughed, holding his left side. He ended up with four broken ribs, a sprained wrist and a bruised sternum. A lot of pain but thankfully, nothing life threatening . Elyan checked for any internal bleeding but there seemed to be none, which was also good news.

The muffin were excellent, as usual, and they kept chatting for the next hour, and Merlin was glad for the distraction. They made arrangement to keep the Crown closed tomorrow, but she will still drop him there in the morning so they can check the perishables in the fridge and clean up a bit, even if she insisted that he would be sitting, and she would do the cleaning.  
Not long after she left, he felt asleep.

Arthur opened the door to his loft flat and turned on the light. He hanged his coat on the tack by the door and threw his key in the small porcelain bowl. As he was walking towards his leather couch, his phone rang making him groaned. He just wanted to open a beer, sit down to watch a game of footie and prentend nothing of all this ever happened. Leon’s name popped on the screen and with a sigh, he picked up the phone.  
“DI Pendagron speaking.” He’d rather sound too professional than too casual, keeping up the facade.  
“Arthur. It might be nothing...but someone contacted Scotland Yard and asked specifically for you.” Leon’s seemed on edge and Arthur could guess why. Since their little chat yesterday, they both felt like Damocles’ sword was hanging over their head. Not that anybody could possibly know what they were up to, and as far as Arthur researches went, he really found nothing that was worth to be deemed threatening.

“Do you have a name or a number I could phone back?” He was standing in the kitchen, finally getting his long desired beer.

“Gaius. I’m texting you his number now. He said it was urgent.” And on those words, the call ended, quickly followed by a notification and the promised number. Gaius. Arthur kept thinking, hard, but he had no recollection of this man. After few minutes of hesitation, he dialled the man, not knowing what to expect anymore.

“Hello.” The voice was old and tired.

“Good evening. DI Pendragon, my office gave me your number.” Arthur was really confused as to why an old man would want to immediately talked to him, especially as he was not known to be the kind of detective to work on private investigation on the side, even if yes, he was doing exactly that right now.  
“Sir. Im glad you called me back. This is about Merlin.”

Arthur stood up straight away and fetched his bag, getting all of his research out, looking for a blank page and a pen. No matter what this man was about to say, he wanted to keep track of it. As silence felt between the two men, and Gaius took it as his queue to carry on.

“He has been hospitalised this morning. A gruesome attack at the Crown sir.” Arthur rubbed his eyes and frowned, mentally beating himself up for clearly putting Merlin in danger. He did his best to make sure no one would know about their little encounter but it seems than someone ended up hearing about it anyway. The old man continued.  
“I’ve been asked to call you directly and to give you the name of Valiant sir.” The DI scribbled down the name quickly, pinching his nose as to where he heard it before. Exhaling, he thanked the man over the phone for the information.

“It is my duty sir. I’ll keep a better eye on the boy from now on. Goodnight sir.”. Arthur stared at his phone. Next to Valiant’s name, he added Gaius’. More questions were raised that night, and Arthur’s mind just could not cope anymore. He abandoned his beer on the wooden coffee table, and went to bed, overflowed by guilt and worry for Merlin. His night was agitated, the voice of his father echoing in his dreams. “Stop nosing around Arthur. Some things are meant to be buried with my body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reaching the fourth chapter, I hope you are enjoying the ride so far. 
> 
> A CONTENT WARNING will put for the fifth chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Underthisrain. 
> 
> See you next time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING : some of the following elements of this story are explicitly and implicitly disturbing. READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Arthur woke up groggy on this Thursday morning. His night had been hellish and he was not sure that a nice cup of tea would be enough to make him feel better. He reluctantly stood up and put on the kettle. As the water was warming up, he jumped in the shower, thanking the warm water which was fogging up his mind and his bathroom. After an eternity, he stepped out, put on a pair of clean boxer briefs and roughly toweldried his messy golden hair. He went back to his bedroom to grab his phone he had left on the night table and finished to make his cuppa. It was barely 8am and he still had four hours before going to work. His work day traditionally began earlier in the morning, but today, his team had a mandatory training about knew technologies and the crimes that descended from it, so he would come in at noon. Not a great schedule was ahead of him today : an other budget audit for his department was planned when he dreaded them. It was not his fault that London was rotten with crimes, and as the years went on, he had been told off many times for his lack of quick results, despite the resources available to him. And today, he would get the talk again. And he was not looking forward to it. At least, he would get the chance the last crime statistics in the comfort of his own home this morning.  
Now that his cup was empty, he got himself ready. He needed a gym session that would make his body take over his brain, kicking out all the frustration he accumulated in the last days.

He went down the stairs, two by two, and picked a glance at his letter box. He opened it, finding the usual charity collection bag, adverts and leaflets for the upcoming elections. He grabbed the whole lot, planning on throwing it on his way when under everything, an envelope caught his eyes. Focused on it, he mindlessly put the junk back and closed the box. Still standing in the building hall, his eyes glanced over his name and address, handwritten and clearly rushed. He opened it and a ‘cling’ could be heard. With an intrigued look, he picked up a key and examined it. It was a key, just a simple, average key. He unfolded the page that came with it and squirted his eyes, struggling to decipher the words layed on the paper. After few reads, his heartbeat went over the roof. He ran back to his flat, jumping the flights of stairs three by three. He grabbed his leather bag and as quick as he arrived, he was out the door.

Merlin was standing in front of the hospital. The pain was just annoying now, and he could stand and walk without great difficulties. The church rang eight times, and right on the dot, Gwen stopped her car, picking up Merlin. The ride was quiet, and Merlin's body was getting tensed as they turned in the street the Crown was standing. He had the confirmation yesterday that Valiant knew where he was and the thought of it made him short of breath. By instinct, Gwen put her hand on his thigh, putting him at ease, telling him everything was going to be alright.

“Gwen, did the Police ever arrested the man who did that to me?” Merlin’s voice was low and faint, as he was looking at the window, not aware that the car had stopped.

“ Gwaine went to the police, but as a small town, we are short on CCTVs. The officer said they would keep looking but told us to not have any high hopes.” Her voice was sad and defeated. She finally got out of the car, straightened her jacket and patiently waited for Merlin to join her in front of the Crown. With difficulties, Merlin found back his composure and opened the car door. His long and pale fingers searched through the pockets of his trousers for the keys but before he could get them, Gaius appeared, a paternal smile plastered on his face. He slowly unlocked the door of the tavern and turned off the alarm. Merlin was silently glad for it, as he was unsure he would have even entered the code correctly. The three of them walked in and Gwen let out a small gasp at the view of blood splatter. A small pool of dried blood could be seen by the kitchen doorway, where Merlin’s layed unconscious, just yesterday. She grabbed Merlin’s arm, not knowing if it was more for her comfort or his. Gaius was the first one to walk behind the bar, the noise of his sticking boots ringing in the pub, as he inadvertently stepped in the remains of Gwaine's coffee. With a nonchalance that seemed out of place, he grabbed a cup, wetted a cloth, roughly cleaned Merlin’s blood from the coffee machine and prepared himself a green tea. He then cleared his throat before breaking the silence.

“My boy, if you’d let me, I’ll look after the Crown for the next days. Gwen and I will clean it and put it back in order, while you stay at home. It is the best option right now.” The old man voice let no room for an argument, and with no real conviction, Merlin nodded. Before he could even ask, Gwen offered to drive him back home. Less than five minutes later, Merlin exited the car, finally back at manor. The guilt of letting old Gaius running a place that was not even his was quickly overshadowed by the thought of his bed upstairs.  
He let out a confused mumble as his key would not turned, before finding out the door was open. Exhausted, he already pictured the house being ransacked, plates broken and furniture all over the place. As the door swinged open, he could not contain his surprised as the house was immaculate, but on the staircase leading to the first floor, a pale dark haired woman was sitting. Before he could do any movements, she stood up, eyes cold.

“Merlin, we have to talk.”

Arthur left the taxi, handing the taxi two twenty bills, and did not wait for his change. He entered a small shop, too bright and empty. Behind a small desk, a man kept staring at him and Arthur realised he must be looking dishevelled and lost. After an awkward moment where Arthur looked back and forth between the man and the key he was still holding in his hand, he babbled.  
“I've got a key.”

“Indeed you do.” The man seemed to be amused more than annoyed. “do you know for which box?”

Arthur just realised that the shop wasn’t in fact empty, but the walls were full off post boxes. Still shaken, he retrieved the letter and looked around and nodded to himself. In few seconds, he found the one noted 2-1.1 and pointed at it. The other man gesture at him to go ahead. He didn’t mind those kind of encounter. So many people were picking up the letters for friends and they always looked guilty of doing something wrong or intruding. And even if they were, it was not his problem : he was renting those boxes for £1.85 a week, not pretending to have the best security system or anything. His customers knew it and they never were any problems so far.

Arthur opened the box and found a big orange craft envelope. He grabbed it and slided it in his bag, under the suspicious yet uninterested look of the worker. In the taxi back home, he could not help but smile as all of this was starting to look way too cliché for his own taste.

Back in his loft, he put the craft envelope down on the coffee table. For the first time, a knot formed in his stomach. He had no idea what was in it and part of him wanted it to stay that way. It was now a bit later than 9am and here he was, pacing in his living room, giving death glares at an inanimate object. The words from the letters kept popping into his mind, and the envelope was teasing him and it was too much. He finally sat on his couch, and took out the letter from his back pocket, placing it next to the envelope. He read it over and over again. An address and a number was scribbled down, but it’s what followed that made him go crazy right now.

“ Arthur. Get what’s there. It’s all the answers you need. But there’s no going back, you won’t ever unsee it so be wise.

Merlin Emrys.”

In defeat, he approached his hand to the envelope, tapping his finger on it before grabbing it. He had to say it was heavy. With a deep breath, he extracted what looked like a collection of portrait. His shoulder relaxed as from all what he imagined, this wasn’t gonna give nightmares. Roughly ruffling through the pages, he guessed that they were about 150 recto-verso pages, all filled up with square pictures – 24 to be precised. They were all in black and white and grainy. The more he stared at the picture though, the more he felt anxious. As he focused his gaze on the dozens and dozens of faces, he realised the expressions of pain, the bludgeoned faces, the eyes never looking at the camera. And the more he stared, the more the youth of those people hit him. They were kids, no doubt about it, some of them were not even looking old enough to be in school and he was sure he had passed the picture of a baby but didn’t have the guts to look back. An other fact downed on him when it become apparent that they were cropped picture, a portfolio of faces extracted from somewhere else, a whole bigger picture. Some of the squares were crossed out, and Arthur felt like he was staring at a child cemetery. Few notes were written here and there, but it was mostly unreadable. He was now looking at every single little photos with great care, his throat drying up. He eyes caught the glimpse of more pages coming from the envelope and he grabbed them, with no further thoughts as the portfolio was put together in as mess of staples and string, and it had probably lost a few pages. He reached out to grab them and realised halfway through that they were not pictures of children. It was adults. In less than a second, his brain registered their facial expressions and just one glanced over the portfolio was enough to make him physically sick. He rushed to his bathroom and as the content of his stomach was leaving him, his arms started to shake. Bent over the toilet bowl, he hyperventilated, chocking on his own puke, cheeks wet from tears and knuckles white from holding to the only thing that seemed real, the toilet rim. Everytime he closed his eyes, he was seeing the men, in orgasm and the face of the children, bloodied and swollen and his imagination was filling the rest of the picture for him and he could not breath and he was cold and no matter how hard he tried, he could not unsee it.

His knees were hurting him and his arms were cramped. In a slow movement, his right hand grabbed the side of the bathtub and helped him to pivot his body. He took off his gym tee shirt, slower than usual as he struggled to get his body functions back to normal. Still coughing and spitting, he turned the water and tried to rinse his face, his mouth and his hair, soiled by string of saliva and sweat. With water in his eyes and dripping hair, he helped himself up, pushing on his arms and squatting up. The room seemed to move and the few attempt to open his eyes ended up with Arthur holding himself on something as his vision blackened. Trying his best to inhale and exhale slowly and deeply, he dried himself up and exited the bathroom. Without even a glance toward the coffee table, he turned the kettle on.

“What’s going on Morgana?” Merlin just hoped his landlady was not planning on evicting him. He didn’t know a lot about her but maybe she wanted to come back in Camlot and wanted him to vacant the house. He was living here free of charge as a deal he made years ago with her : he would make sure the house would not fall to ruins and he could live here as long as he needed. And it had been five years now. He would forever be grateful for it and he understood that he could not have lived here forever. He just wished it would happen at a different time in his life. Maybe good old Gaius would host him, but the man is already helping him so much with the Crown. Gwen might have a spare room. He didn’t know where she lived though, she might not even be in Camlot.

“Merlin, are you listening?” He jumped at the mention of his name and nodded. They walked in the living room and she invited him to grab a sit. Even after so many years, Merlin still felt like a guest in this house when Morgana was here.

“Alright, I need you to listen to me carefully.” Her voice was sharp but it was not directed toward Merlin but at the situation. “Valiant doesn’t know where you live. No bills, no letter box, nothing in your name. You are to stay here until this is dealt with. I asked Gaius to contact DI Pendragon and hopefully, he is looking into Valiant while we talk. Now, what concerns me is how did Valiant find you, and I think the detective’s visit is how. I’m not saying he ratted you out – voluntarily or not – but I think they heard about Pendragon son looking into the death of Pendragon dad and shutting you up would be the best way to stop Arthur’s investigation. And with you dead, the CD-Rum is forever lost.”

Merlin looked at her and at the table and back at her. His mouth was closing and opening but no sounds were coming out of it. He swallowed and whisper, more to himself that back at her “You knew.”

Arthur stood in his kitchen, his cup in hand, composing himself. Being a DI, he had seen some gruesome scenes over the years and had dealt with few cases of paedophilia. Most of the time, it was within the inner family circle, and the testimony of the children were devastating. In just two cases, video evidences had been presented and Arthur remembered them vividly but it was nothing compared to the amount of children looking back at him from his coffee table. The thing is, at the end of the 90’s, the idea of a pedophile ring was part of conspiracy theories. There were no underground web kidnapping children and abusing them, selling their bodies. Point. Organised crimes were reserved for weapons, drugs and money laundering. And today, it was a thing you would just not talk about. There had been some networks which had been shut down but from a juristic stand, a man raping his daughter and selling the evidence online was not considered as a ring. It was mere traffic of pedopornographic material. By a quick calculation, there were more 7000 faces in the portfolio, based on the hypothesis that they were all different faces. The immensity of it made Arthur's blood boil. From shock and disgust, just anger was left. Thousands of children had been raped, and tortured and the justice had never been aware of it? Surely, one of the kid talked one day, or even if all the little victims had been forever silenced – and the idea made Arthur shiver - then somewhere, there should be a pile of missing children cases and unidentified little bodies forgotten down in the mortuaries. But nothing. In his career, he never came across any clue that would let anybody think that this was happening. But then, he remembered. Merlin sent him to retrieve those documents. This was linked to his father’s death. And for the first time, Arthur had to many theories. Before he realised, his alarmed rang and in less than ten minutes, he was dressed and on his way to work, closing his loft door, and leaving everything behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading up until now. 
> 
> The sixth chapter will be uploaded soon. If this chapter was disturbing or triggering for you, I'll invite you to quit reading right away. 
> 
> A big thank you to Underthisrain who has been a great beta, and an even greater adviser for the upcoming chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING : THE FIRST SCENE OF THE CHAPTER CAN BE UPSTETTING AND/ OR TRIGERRING.
> 
> INCLUDING EXPLICIT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF RAPE AND PAEDOPHILIA. 
> 
> READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

**CHAPTER SIX**

The room was dark, just lightened up by the eight computer screens working in the background. The man was typing mindlessly on his laptop placed on the desk. From the left drawer, he grabbed a virgin CD-Rom and stood up. With nonchalance, he replaced the disc from one of the farthest back computer tower, and with a marker, wrote the number five on the newly filled up memory devices. Now standing back behind his desk, he opened his left drawer, and placed the CD-Rom in the already half-full box. He then grabbed his phone, calling his associate.

“ Is it done ?” the voice was bored and almost nostalgic.  
“No. Valiant had some complication. Emrys survived.”

The man sat down back in his chair, starring his at his laptop screen. Two bodies were moving, naked. The smallest body was bruised, pinned down on his stomach, on the bare floor of a motel room, hands tighten behind his back. His cries were covered up by the other's moans. Fingers chocked the child, making him puke in an ungraceful way. As the man kept pondering the small figure, he forced his juvenile face in his sick.

“ I want Emrys dead. Do you understand? We cannot afford to have him roaming the streets with Pendragon’s Son. He got lucky the first time, but I don’t care anymore. With her father dead, she has no power over me anymore. It should have been done a long time ago. Kill Emrys and her.”

Few more struggles and the child passed out. Using the body as a doll, the man came hard, pulling on the raven hair of the boy so hard that his back bent almost unnaturally. Scooping his cum from the inanimate hole, he rolled the inert body over. Slapping him from his free hand, still hard, now kneeled, he seized the youngster’s jaw as soon as his eyes drowsily open. Pressing on both side, he forced the mouth open and shoved his semen down his throat before slamming him down. Leaning above him like a shadow and smiling from all his teeth, he patted the boy head, whispering a single “good boy Merlin". The child looked back up, his piercing blues eyes drowned in tears, his lips swollen and split . His head banged the floor as in a last breath, the twelve years old's body fainted.

He closed his laptop angrily. He knew it would have come to this one day but he always hope that Merlin's execution could be avoided. Because it was videos like this one that reminded him how much he had loved the boy, from the first time his eyes had set on him. Obviously, having Merlin still alive was a dangerous move, especially after the events from eight years ago. And when he killed Uther five years ago, he had set his mind on making him disappear but fate had an other plan for the always so lovable Merlin. And in Camlot, under a new name, he was not a threat anymore, or so he had hoped. But the DI had to revived the past, which meant that Merlin’s holidays were over.

Arthur's day went by as usual. The audit was not as bad as he had imagined this time and his team thanked him for signing them up for the training session, as they learnt new skills they were now glad to be able to use in their daily tasks. Around four, he stopped by the break room, getting a cereal bar from the vending machine. Leon was sitting at the table by the window, chatting with Mordred. The young lad was still considered the rookie, even after he’d been in the department for three years now. His baby face and chubby cheeks were giving the man the features of teenager and no one would have thought he was twenty five already. But Arthur had a soft spot for him, as he had proved in the past to be a competent officer and valuable asset during interrogations. He always thought the man had an hidden power to make the culprits confess.

He sat down at the table with them, babbling about nothing and everything. In their line of work, small chitchats were valuable, and the break room had an unofficial rule of no worktalk. After sharing opinions about the latest blockbusters and giving reviews of the new coffee shop down the road, they all stood up to get back to their duties. At the doorway, Mordred parted way to the bathroom, and Arthur took the opportunity to discreetly signaled Leon to follow him back to his office, which he did without thinking twice. The blond went through his ritual of locking the door and closing the blinds before sitting down.  
Leon, still standing, took out a USB key from his chest pocket, handed it to Arthur who silently connected it to his computer.  
He had asked his friend to look up Valiant and Gaius the night before and was impressed with how quick the other had delivered the information. After reading the document attentively, he turned back to his colleague.

“ They have no connection Leon. None. I guess Merlin asked Gaius to call me so I could help but there’s nothing I can do. And the local police did not put a call out for us so Scotland Yard can not even get on the case.” Arthur stared at the screen but it was not giving him any more information, no matter how hard he looked. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag and handed the small black notebook to Leon, hoping to get more answers on this lead. The list he had made was nicely folded and placed right in the middle between pages. “ Lance gave me this. You’ll find a list of all the names that don’t match the official records inside.” Arthur knew that the lost faces resting on his coffee table were more than likely belonging to those faceless names, but thinking about the 472 persons in that position made his stomach turn again. He hoped Leon would come up with an alternative theory to his, but the chances were thin. Leon grabbed the book and browsed, a frown appearing on his face time to time. He sighed and unfolded the page, glanced at the names and threw the whole thing back on top of the DI's desk.  
“Arthur, you know how that looks right?” and he did. It looked like a accounting book. Prices next to names that were more than likely kids, and above that, some were more valuable than other, as in a man gave himself the power to evaluate the cost of these lives.  
“I know Leon.” He rubbed his face and, composing himself, he asked the question that was now burning his lips. “ But how was my father involved in this? It is not his handwriting, so he is not the author, but he had it in his possession. How? Why?” Like said before, Arthur never considered his father to be a good man, but at least, he never doubted that above all, Uther was an honest one. But right now, he was not that sure anymore.  
“Did you look up the names?” it was a fair question from Leon but yes, Arthur did and nothing. Nothing as in Merlin’s case : no address, no work history, no school history. Their name written in front of their eyes were the only proof of their existence. He went as far as digging through the city hall database and phoning them up but not even a single birth certificate had been delivered. And as an unofficial investigation, he could not exploit any of the Scotland Yard resources, especially if his superiors knew it was to track down people listed in a book he was not even supposed to possess.  
“Nothing Leon. There is nothing. If it was not for Merlin’s name, I would have believe it was just a ghost list or a book of aliases ideas.” The men stared in silence at the documents before finally shaking hands and calling it a day. It was almost five and the DI had two other meetings to attend, as Leon was expected at a crime scene in Kensington, as a new robbery took place.

Merlin was paler than usual, trying to make sense of Morgana's word. She could not know. There were no way that she knew apart if she was in...Merlin stood up, arms up towards his landlady.

“ I did nothing wrong....Please...Just...leave me alone...I’ll go...give me two hours and... You’ll never here about me again...I’m sorry....God I’m sorry...” His body was slammed against the wall, legs shaking, his hands now covering his face, sobbing and breathing heavily. Morgana ran towards him, and embraced him. They slid down the wall as Merlin body gave up, now just being a ball of cries. She tried to calm him down, slowing rocking him in her arms.  
“Merlin, breath. I am not going to hurt you. I promise. You’re safe here...You’re safe.” Her voice reminded him of his mother and his shoulder relaxed. She caressed his hair in a smoothing strokes and he cleaned his runny nose with his sleeve and he let his all body go, stretching his legs in front of him, his backside hitting the floor. His arms felt down his side like vulgar pieces of chiffon. He only realised Morgana had left his side when she came back with a cup of coffee. He declined it and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

She sat back at the table, and looked through her phone gallery. Once she found what she was looking for, she squatted in front of him and handed the phone. With her elongated finger, nail as red as blood, she pointed to the middle top of the photo, making a tic noise on the screen.  
“That's me, Morgana LeFay.” Her smile was weak and her eyes nostalgic. “First class of Project Excalibur. Twenty seven years already...” Her green eyes seemed detached from reality. In a slow movement , she grabbed her phone back and offered her hand to Merlin. He shyly took it, being pulled back on his leg.  
“That means you...well...you’ve been...” hearing the distress in his voice, Morgana cut him short.  
“Yes.”. She rubbed Merlin’s arm compassionately and an other sob submerged him, so she hugged him close again. At that moment, she felt thrown back in time, when kids would run out of one the Essetir’s room, and hugged her so hard she would get bruises. Silently, she cried with him.

Arthur’s day was over and he was glad for it...He definitely did not enter Scotland Yard to deal with the bureaucracy, but he could not be exempt of his DI's duties. He walked towards the underground before changing his route : he deserved a cider before entering his den again. As much as he wanted to get to the truth, he could not shake the overwhelming dark shadow that walked beside him and followed him in his dreams. He pushed the door to the Rising Sun , paid and grabbed his pint before sitting on one of the back tables. There’s one thing he wanted to do all day, and now that his pint was empty, he felt he could do it. For good measure ( and lack of courage ), he got himself an other drink. Hesitantly, he texted on his phone and stared at the screen impatiently. The vibration of the notification made him jumped back into work mode. He opened it and, anxiety flowing through his vein, dialled the new number on his screen.

Merlin was now back to a normal state, hunched over the now cold coffee, eyes fixed on Morgana. He was tempted to believe her but he was certain he had never seen her in her life. Granted, she looked older than him, and if what she said was true, if she was there the first year Excalibur opened, then she was thirty seven at least, as the required age to enter the project was ten years old. Or at least it was in his time. His eyes were too blurry to have a proper look at the picture she showed him. He didn’t mean to be rude, knowing the age of a woman is meant to be kept secret, but she did look younger. He had so many questions, but no energy to ask them.

“I don’t know you". It was a fact. He met a lot of people during his time in London and there’s one thing he would never do : forget the faces. The names were long gone, the places, the dates were foggy but the faces stayed and still haunted him to that day. He had stared at them long enough to have them engraved in his soul.

“But I know you, Merlin Emrys and it is all what matters right now. There is a reason why Valiant came for you and I believe the next time you’ll see him, you won’t live to tell the tale.” The tone of her voice made him winced at the memories of the attack. She continued. “ Alright, listen : When Project Excalibur started, that’s when it all started. It was planned from the start. Uther’s got blackmailed into opening Ygraines Bank and well, he delivered. The bank was secure and so selective that the people using it were not interested in the why such a bank existed, just glad it did. But from all of Uther’s customers, not all of them were honest rich men – if such a thing exists. They used it as a safe and untraceable way for their business to flourish and it did. Obviously, a market for such materials was really specific, but the demand was huge, and they were all ready to lay the money on the table. Uther's and...”  
Merlin’s phone rang, cutting her. He glanced at it to find an unknown number. Confused and scared, he dropped it on the middle of the table, searching Morgana’s face for what he should do. As the phone kept reading, Morgana unlocked it and put it on loud speaker. Voice uncertain, Merlin talked.  
“Hi...Merlin Hunithson speaking.”

“Merlin! It’s Arthur..umh, DI Pendragon. I got your number from Gaius. Can I talk with you?”

He glanced at the dark haired woman. Did Gaius know about it all as well?

“mmh”

“Are you okay? I heard about what went down at the Crown.” Arthur could be heard over the phone sipping on his drink.

“Yeah...Yeah I’m fine. Did you...Did you get my letter?”  
Morgana’s eyes widened, and shoot a death glare at Merlin. They definitely had to talk about it later.

“ I did Merlin. And I got the portfolio. I just can’t... tell me what it all means Merlin, please. I can’t... My father. Is he one of the men in the picture Merlin ? Is that why you killed him?” The last sentence was hardly audible, but as murmurs could be heard in the background, Merlin guessed it was just fair that he did not want to loudly accused him of murder in a public place.

“No Arthur. He never...not him. He was getting his hand dirty in an other way. I’m sorry for making it sound like Uther raped me. He did not.”  
The line was silent for a moment and just breathing could be heard.

“Merlin, I’m coming back to Camlot tomorrow.”

“No!” Morgana exclaimed, quickly putting her hands over her mouth. Merlin gestured at her to get out of the room and passed his fingers through his hair.

“Who's there? What’s going on?” Morgana bit her lips and was about to answer, even if Merlin kept mouthing ‘no’ to her. She sighed but still carried on.

“Hi. Morgana LeFay. I am taking care of Merlin in the present time. Please do not come back to Camlot. Thank you for calling. Bye now.” She finished the call and apologised to Merlin straight away. “ Sorry but no. I told Gaius to call the DI and give him the name of Valiant in hope Arthur would focus on him and maybe even get the man arrested, probably by miracle I'll admit. But Arthur cannot come back, under any circumstances. If he has the portofolio, Valiant is probably the last thing on his mind. We need to get you somewhere safe, out of Camlot. Valiant is probably on his way. “

“No. If someone has to protect me, I’d rather have someone from law enforcement doing it than you!” He shouted louder than he wanted to. He had a bulleye on his back and he was not ready to run away again. Arthur might be the first DI to actually care about the case in almost a decade and he could not let his chance pass by.

“Oh! Because eight years ago, the justice helped you so much isn’t it ? How long already ? Ah yes, three years you spent knocking at doors but no one listened! Even your portfolio was no proof to them, and let’s not start about the CD-rom Merlin, the minister of justice lied on public television and denied its existence!”

She was exasperated. She thought involving the DI at the minimum would keep him away long enough for them to disappear but now, everything accelerated and the end was near. She stood and grabbed her long dark green wool coat and her bag. On the back of a visit card for a hairdresser, she scribbled down quickly before sliding the card across the table. Her heels clicked and clacked until nothing was to be heard in the mansion. She was gone. He looked down the piece of paper : her phone number and a single sentence.  
“ You can't win Merlin, but you can run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the fic up until here. 
> 
> My beta and I debated wether to publish this this first scene or not but I decided to do so. Far away from me the idea to glorify any aspect of paedophilia, on the contrary, I hoped to have retranscribed the horror and disgust such acts should awake in us. 
> 
> I also fully understand if the readers left the fic and I would not blame them. If the day the last chapter is published, we are only a few readers left, then I would have rose awareness to a few of you, which is enough for me. Because this is a dear subject for me, and behind the fic and the characters we all love and cherish, a real problem is affecting our children everyday. And I don't want them to ever be forgotten. 
> 
> I love you all. Thank you. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING : GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION. MENTION OF RAPE, TORTURE AND PAEDOPHILIA.
> 
> READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Twenty-nine years ago, the great crash happened. Businesses were under the water. Paris, London and Madrid started their day at -15,6%, -15.4% and -14.9% respectively. It was known as the biggest crisis Europe had to face since it’s creation, and the struggle that followed left a trail of bankrupted men and women, the newly rich becoming newly poor. The stock Exchange was now uncertain and fragile. But in this cacophony of distressed phone calls, beeping computers and typing noises, one man saw the opportunity of his life. Juggling between the dividend aristocrats, short sales stock market and the fluctuation of the BX4, he built his fortune before the eyes of thousands of hopeless traders. People said it was sheer luck and it might have been, but it didn’t matter anymore. Within two years, he managed to open the Project Excalibur. And like every thing he did, it worked : hundreds of applications arrived from all across the country.  
He only needed a way to secure his underground business and he found it in the name of Uther Pendragon. The man was known as a small trader, but a promising one. All his transactions were small yet always so perfectly and meticulously calculated that he almost never lost. And as a former lawyer, he was definitely a great asset to have on your side. But it’s the birth of his first child three years prior that sealed the deal. During one of his last case in front of the high court, the ex-lawyer had an affair, with Vivienne, Duchess of the Northern Plains. In the inner circle of the British aristocratic life, this came as a shock and a disgrace and the child born from this unfaithful union was said to be the one who would bring down the Monarchy. The whole scandal was left out of the public eye and buried as much as it could.

But secrets couldn't stay hidden forever and when the newly rich man confronted Uther with the facts, the man had no choice but to comply to the man’s wishes. Yes, it was blackmail but he could not care less. And here it was, born from sex and lies: Ygraines Bank. And he had to admit that Uther really did wonders with it : with an unlimited amount of cash and the best defense team that could be assembled, he created the first Bank for the highly fortunate to be made untraceable. Because you see, the laws were written in a way made to be twisted to serve your purpose. And Uther was twisted : he stood in front of the court, pleading the Right to Be Forgotten and the Right to Privacy were to be applied to all the Bank users, as their fortune was representing a threat to their well-being, being the results of oil exploitation, family inheritance hiding a dark history, weapon trading and more...which were all legal transactions yet badly perceived by third parties. And once again, it worked : Ygraines Bank now wasn't associated with anyone online and to access its history, you needed a special derogation which was almost impossible to get. From a legal point of view, it was a prowess and an historical win. From a moral one, it was highly questionable. And the long and tedious battle to make it happened was of no interest for the public, as it would bring no change to their daily life, which was a double win as Ygraines Bank never caught the eye of any journalist – or just a few. So thank to the self-centered society in which we are living, it made it all possible.  
It had been a smooth process and under other circumstances, Uther would have been proud of the accomplishment but he just couldn't. Retrospectively, he wished he would have had the guts to stand for himself and his child but the doom of disgrace and the fear of a public lynching – for him and Vivienne – took the best of him. Fear is the best weapon of them all. But was protecting Vivienne and her reputation worth the upcoming misery? He wished he had the answer all those years ago, but now, down in his grave, it was too late for regrets.

Arthur was concerned. Down at the pub, empty glasses pilling up in front of him, he could not wipe off the feeling that something was wrong with Merlin. But he couldn’t leave his duties as a DI and run back to Camlot. He wished it would have been so easy but this was the real world, and he had responsibilities. He brushed away the negative feelings and paid his check. Walking down the street, he hailed a taxi, not in the mood for the overcrowded underground tonight. In less than fifteen minutes, he was back home. Even if he would not admit it, he was more than tipsy and stumbled towards his bed. As his eyes were closing, the faces of Merlin and his father stared at him, before being joined by hundreds more anonymous ones. He frantically rubbed his eyes and stood up, barely keeping his balance in the darkness of his flat. Turning on the light of his living room, he groaned at the sudden pain, as his eyes felt like burning. He dropped his body on his sofa, and stared blankly at the portfolio. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that but before he knew it, he was standing by the cabinet , pouring himself some gin. Due to lack of energy and willingness to move more than necessary, his empty cup of tea happened to be the perfect recipient for his alcoholic beverage. He downed it quicker than intended and refilled his cup. At least, he was glad to have enough composure to not drink straight from the bottle.

Merlin stared at the card that Morgana had left him before shoving it in his back pocket. Being lost was an euphemism compared to what he was feeling right now. He went back up in his room and paced frenetically on the old wooden floor, creating a music of despair. He grabbed his phone, and called back Arthur, regardless of the time. All he knew for sure, was that the night had long set, and he thoughts had long darkened .

Arthur jumped at the sound of his phone. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the caller ID but gave up and picked it up anyway.

“Hello?”, he had no strength to keep up the professional facade, and his voice was uncertain, almost shaky.

“Arthur! I ... “ the young man was lost for words. He had wanted to call him, and realised in this instant, it might just to be to hear his voice.  
“Merlin...” The DI seemed to sober up a bit, just enough to reconcile his thoughts.

“Listen Arthur. I never meant for you to be caught up in this. I am sorry and I should never have sent you the portfolio. It’s a burden I had no right to put up on your shoulders. I wish I cou-...”

“Merlin, please stop, would you?” the blond was saddened by the tone of the black haired man. “It’s my fault. I am the one who was looking for answers.... I should have known when to stop and let the past undisturbed. I should be the one apologising... But this Merlin, this is bigger than I could have imagined. I can’t let it go, not now. Justice needs to be served and mark my words : I will not rest until this is over.” Arthur surprised himself at the determination that came out of him. But that gave him a new wave of energy and he grabbed all of his documents again. “ Now, I am going to question you Merlin, if that’s alright. You may want to stop me at some point, and I will not blame you for it. This phone call is a safe environment. Does it sound alright to you?” his voice was now soft and reassuring.

“Umh...” Merlin sat down on the edge of his bed, his elbow resting on his knees, elbows digging in his thighs. His phone was now on loudspeaker and placed on his bedside table. Arthur took the silenced that followed as his queue to start talking.

“ Are the pictures from the portfolio extracted from...” His voice cracked a bit at the thought, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure.

“Yes. Yes they are. I... had a CD-Rom. I stole it from Uther almost a decade ago. I took me months to be able to watch completely, trying to capture the best portraits of the victims in the hope they would be identified. I then put it together...almost like a catalogue of horrors. On very few videos, the face of the perpetrator could be seen and I isolated those as well. I printed a copy for five governments : the UK, Germany, France, Belgium and the Netherlands. With each document, I sent a copy of the CD-Rom. I knew for a fact that at least one victim was from these country and I guess I foolishly hoped an investigation would be open, helping to identified the children. The one you have is my original copy. I noted all the kids I remember seeing during my time there and... the one I.. groomed, and I... crossed out...the one I knew for a fact were dead.” Merlin voice which was until that point scarily calm broke on those words. Arthur could not lay his eyes on the images in front of him anymore. He needed an another drink if the conversation would carry on.

“It was eight years ago Arthur. I was barely nineteen and here I was, playing the beater at night, and fighting by day. After months of complete silence, I send a copy to a journalist, Freya Bastet. She... She had been extraordinary and in two weeks, the story was the front page. Dozens of families rushed in the police stations, demanding to see the pictures, in the hope to recognize their missing siblings or children. The government complied the next month, and for one week end, the portfolio could be consulted in one police station in the country : Cardiff. It was better than nothing. Eighty-one families formally identified a child. They requested the reopening of the cases. And a legal proceeding was initiated : the CD-Rom gate was born. The families asked for a formal investigation to be conducted. But The Secretary of State for Justice closed the case, on public television. They said that without the CD-Rom, they could not do anything. At that point, they had the CD-Rom in their possession for over a year Arthur.... But they just aborted the case. It was given a dismissal, and indirectly, eighty one dismissals were given. To that day, the Judge Morgause has always denied the existence of such a network, it was all just smoke and mirrors. No one ever looked for the children, the families were told that it was not their children, that they had made a mistake. In one instance, a family was called liars as the kid they identified had been formally identified in the Netherlands two weeks prior. It never happened Arthur, no names were given to the children, ever ! But here we were, being told we were in front of the biggest collection of lookalikes. And it was done. Few months later, Freya was judged and convicted for possessions of pedopornographic materials. She died three years later in jail from breast cancer... And that was all, end of the story ! The justice had done nothing apart for condemning an innocent person!“ Merlin was now shouting , breath heavy and tears ugly. Memories were flashing before his eyes. He saw himself, abused and raped. At fifteen, he had been promoted, like they said. He was now the one bringing the new victims into their claws, Project Excalibur being the perfect cover to get your hands on children. He tried all he could to escape but there were nothing and no one to help him, he was trapped. He saw thirteen years old girls giving birth in the bathtub of a dirty motel, screaming in agony. He saw kids as young as five being chocked to death , whilst their small cold body kept being desecrated. He saw the unspeakable, the thing just a few could even comprehend. Men raping new borns, taking them out of this world as quick and painfully as they came in, their first cry covered by moans of pleasure. And in all his agony, he knew one thing : murder was not the thing keeping him awake at night.

“... Merlin... “ Arthur’s voice was almost a pathetic cry. Lost for words, he could not wrap his head around what he has just heard. How could he had never heard about it ? He was in the police force, he read the newspapers on a regular basis and was convinced he would not have forgotten something this big.

“ No, you see Arthur, the problem is that no one cared! Their whole world was about to crumble into pieces, confronted by hard evidence that their kids were abused and killed, in this mockery of a secured society we’ve been told we were living in...and they all forgot, carried on with their life like nothing ever happened. It was too much for them and...” Merlin’s body was shaking, his skin was paler than it had ever been. His eyes were dried out. “...And I guess I don’t blame them for forgetting. I selfishly wish I could do the same.” And those words hurt Arthur more than he expected. Merlin had been alone in this battle, and while he was still standing, he had the burden of remembrance, as the world kept moving forward and forgetting. Before Arthur could even reply, Merlin continued, as if nothing could stop the flow of his words anymore. He had to let it out, he needed someone to listen and tell him he was not demented, that it was not just all in his head. That it happened and is still happening.

“But I’ve been a bloody coward Arthur! I stayed there! I kept being a beater for them! So many kids went through all of this because of me! I got blood on my hands, and not just your father's! And then, Will died...He bloody died... He... He couldn’t stand it any more...” Merlin had tried to grieve but as the years went on, the pain was just getting stronger. In this nightmare, they had each other, a shoulder they could rest upon. Someone to share their suffering and not be alone. And just as Merlin, Will had been abused so many years, camera always in the corner of the room, his ordeals sold around the globe. But as he grew older, he had been forced to abuse in return. Being recorded, he had raped, bludgeoned and tortured kids, sharing their pain on screen, mumbling apologies in their ear. He had been forced to see the footage, and touch himself, knife on his throat whilst it was broadcasted live. But one day, he found the exit. And during one of those torture sessions, he had voluntarily sliced his throat open on the blade, bleeding to death. The unplanned snuff movie still hold the record for highest views to that day, immortalising Will in the worse way possible, laying dead, naked and worst of all, finally smiling.

“ That night, your father...He asked me to bring back a boy at the motel. The order was simple : younger that fourteen. It was the only requirement. But it was one too many. I grabbed the knife and let out all my hate on him. I don’t know why your father was doing it, but he was one of the most prolific beater there ever was. He had sacrificed so many young lives over the years but for what ? I don’t know. He was the only one who never laid a hand on us. But he did worse, he brought us to them. “

His cup empty, his heart heavy, a single tear rolled down Arthur cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading up 'til now. 
> 
> Will's death was really not easy to right I have to admit...
> 
> And as usual, thanks to Underthisrain for being a top notch beta ! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Friday morning, Arthur was feeling like shit. As soon as his eyes opened, he got hit by a massive hangover. He stayed in bed for a while, reconsidering all his life choices. He finally got up and after a warm shower, tea and an impressive amount of water, he put on his best suit. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror, making sure he was looking flawless. His shoulders seemed to relax a bit, and he walked towards the kitchen counter, checkbook in hand. Deep in thoughts, he finally settled down for a five digits check. Money had never been an issue and he couldn’t care less about spending it.

When his mother died in labour, he inherited a pretty amount of cash...he’d taken years to bury the feeling of unfairness, as if a stocked up bank account could ever replace his mother. He missed her. Not so much her as a person but as a motherly figure.

As years went on, he couldn’t stop asking himself what would have been different in his life if she was still there. And on his eighteenth birthday, when Uther found out about his boyfriend, he had wished his mom would be here, telling him it was all gonna be okay. Uther had snapped that day, calling him a disgrace to the Pendragon family, an unnatural monstrosity. And Arthur could do nothing but nod, packing up a bag and hiding his tears.

He had left the family home that day – if it could even be referred as a family home – and started his new life. Walking down his childhood street, he swore that he would make the best out of his life, it would make it matter, even if he was “just a useless poof, not even good enough to be left dead in a gutter". He entered the academy and less than fifteen years later, he was proud to say he had become a DI, and he hoped, he was making the world a safer place everyday. And if years ago, someone would have told him he was about to screw everything up, he would have laughed in their face with the arrogance that innocence offers to the youngest.

With a heavy hand, he placed the check in an envelope, grabbed his bag and went out the door. For the first in his life, it felt like he was doing the right thing. Half an hour later, he got out of the underground and walked towards Scotland Yard. He took a deep breath and pushed the door. He mindlessly waved at his colleagues, and passed a concerned looking Leon, as he went across the room, not stopping by his office and walked straight to the commissioner’s door. Three knocks and the door opened. Being only eight in the morning, he knew she would not have any appointment yet. Cressida Dick had been commissioned two years ago ; the first woman to ever occupy this post.

“DI Pendragon! Please come in.” She invited him inside, closing the door in the process. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and grabbed a sit on one of the chair placed by her desk. She sat down not long after, glancing at her day scheduled.

“I was not expecting you today. “ she frowned at the statement. “What can I do for you?”

Arthur took off the envelope from his bag and placed it on her desk. “ It's with great sadness that I am resigning from my DI position, effective from now. Please find a check which I hope would cover all the expenses my sudden leave might generate. I realise this is a breach of my contract and I do apologise for the sudden news but I hope we can come around and not bring it in front of the court. I will be emptying my office today.”

“Mr Pendragon, I have to say I did not see that coming. I would need you to hand over all your open cases to me within the next hours. Please bring down any belongings from Scotland Yard to the Human resources. I hope you understand that leaving without notice, there is a high probability you will never be reinstated.” Her voice was mechanical, as a broken disc which repeated the same chorus on and on. He nodded and left her office, shoulder straights but the heart heavy.

Few hours later, everything was ready for him to walk out and never come back. He stopped by the break room one last time, with Leon and Mordred and even Lance had left his basement to share one last coffee with Arthur.

“Mate, we'll miss you around here.” Leon’s voice was saddened, and he wished he could ask the thousands questions running through his mind. He hoped deeply that Arthur was not in danger and that this was not his final farewell, but a small voice in his head kept telling him that today marked the end of Arthur's life. He knew that his job had always been everything for the DI and his sudden resignation felt like a betrayal to all what Arthur was standing for.

“It's for the best.” The newly unemployed blond took a sip of his last Scotland Yard tea, uncomfortable. He was starting to doubt his choice but the thought of Merlin put him back on track immediately.

“What are you going to do now ?” Lance was looking back at Leon, sharing their unspoken concerns.

“I'll go back to Camlot. I’ll buy myself a nice little town house and maybe start a goat's cheese business." He laughed at his answer, lighting up the mood in the room. He knew his friends were worried but he had to reassure them... or at least , he had to try and reassure himself. From now on, he was engaged on an unmarked path, and there was no need to lie, he was terrified. Glancing at his watch, he sighed and said his goodbyes, promising to keep in touch. Lance and Leon shared a glance, a silent deal : to keep an eye on Arthur. Mordred and him shook hands and just like that, the former DI left the building.

Merlin had a sleepless night. Nightmares and memories overflowing his every thoughts, and as the sun rose, he decided that going out would be the best thing for him. By ten, he was entering the Crown, and to witness the place open and running without him created some mixed feelings. He was glad that Gaius seemed to handle everything but he also felt useless. He sat at the bar, thankful for the constant background noise filling up the pub. Gaius’ face softened when he saw the young man.

“Merlin, my boy! How are you doing ?”. The black haired man smiled, as Gaius seemed so at ease behind the bar, chatting up. In a record time, he already had a black coffee and a croissant placed in front of him.

“I'm doing better thanks. Just really needed to see people you know.” He took a sip if his coffee, enjoying the warm feeling. That definitely was what he needed.

“I’m happy to hear it!” The old man leaned over the bar, his voice suddenly quieter, “ but you know you should not be here Merlin. This isn’t safe.” He quickly came back to a straighter position, smiling at the customers , trying not to look suspicious. Merlin sighed because he knew being seen here could be a problem but he was tired of fighting. Morgana told him he could run, but he was tired of it. If everything had to end in a bloodbath, in a dark street on his way back home, then so be it. He was grateful for the five years he had had, the friends he had made but he knew that chances were he would not live to see retirement. He had just hope he would have had a bit longer.  
He sadly smiled back at the old man. “That's a great coffee Gaius, you’re a natural".

He stayed there for hours, talking with everybody. The town was glad to see him smiling after what happened. Gwen had passed by, and as her eyes locked on Merlin, she ran into his arms, making him winced a bit.

“Oh my god Merlin, I’m so sorry ! Your ribs ! Are you doing okay though ? Have you eaten ? Do you need me to go grocery shopping for you? Oh, you look tired...have you slept good ? Are you in pain? You know I can ask Elyan for some painkillers if you need. I’m sure he'll gladly write a prescri-

“I'm fine Gwen. It's fine". He was now laughing at the babbling of his friend and realised that he did really missed her. They ate lunch together, and when Gwen had to go back to work, she left him her phone number.

“if you need anything – anything at all – you call me, alright ?” She kissed his cheek and left as quick as she had come, waving her hands at him, her car keys jingling on her fingers. As Gaius approached to clear the remains of their lunch, Merlin grabbed the stack of plates, pleading the old man to let him do it. The town historian gave up and from behind the bar, threw a cloth at him to clean the table. It landed right on his face and Merlin chuckled. He ended up cleaning all the tables around, now that the Crown was empty. He felt so much better and for a short moment, he almost forgot everything.

Arthur gave a last glance at his loft flat : everything was unplugged, clean and the blind closed. He locked his front door, and got into the lift, his luggage standing by him. Down in the basement garage, he put his belongings in the boot of his car. He had to admit that his blue Ford was not the most amazing car he could afford, but it was doing the job just fine. He set his sat-nav to Camlot and after taking a long breath, he started the vehicle. After a longer than expected journey getting lost in the middle of nowhere – he could finally see the towers of the Castle. Tired, he parked by the ruins. He could hear the church ringing six, and the sun was slowly disappearing over the valley. He walked towards the old town, a knot in his stomach.

Merlin stood up from the bar stool as Gwaine and Percival entered the Crown. The two lads seemed knackered and in desperate need of a drink. Gaius happily served them and the three grabbed a sit in the back. Gwaine insisted to take the sit with the view on the entrance, in case the man would ever dare coming back. At the comment, Merlin laughed, insisting he was not a damsel in distress, yet he was glad to know his friends were protecting him.

“How’s my favourite man in town ? Enjoying his time off ?” Gwaine said, overjoyed to see Merlin. Beer foam was lodged in his stubble, and with a flirty eye, licked it off. Percy buried his nose in his pint, cheeks red.

“I'm good really. I helped Gaius a bit today, can’t stand to watch him work while I’m sitting you know... but yeah, things are good.” He tried his best but only gave a sad smile, at which Gwaine frowned.

“ if I ever see that guy again, he is a dead man Merl! I don’t know what is his problem, but I won’t let him set foot in Camlot.” Gwaine was visibly fuming, his fists clenching, not understanding why would someone hurt his skinny happy puppy-like friend.

“What he means by that" started Percy “ is that we're here for you alright?” the giant man put his hand on Gwaine's thigh, trying to calm him down.

Arthur dusted his suit jacket as his hand was getting closer to the Crown's door. He inhaled deeply, thinking about what he would say. In the car, he had played the scene over and over in his mind, but standing in front of the tavern now, his thoughts were blanks. His heart was pounding when he stepped in the pub. But confusion quickly overtook him as an old man could be seen working behind the bar.

Gwaine’s eyes widen as he pointed at the doorway of the place. “That is a fine piece of meat. Not from around here I can tell you, we don't make suits like that!” Merlin laughed and turned his head, pint in hand.

Arthur walked towards the counter and tried to get Gaius’ attention.

“Hello there! What can I get for you?” the man's voice was grainy and he could not shake the feeling of familiarity it had.

“ Umh...hi. I'm Arthur, I’m looking for Merlin?” the blond was uncomfortable, and felt like he was intruding. He started to regret his decision when a glass shattered on his right and a panicked Merlin met his eyes. Before he could react, the man rushed towards him, pulling on his arm while the two were stumbling to the kitchen.

“Arthur! What the hell are you doing here. You should not be...you... you need to go.” Merlin passed his hand through his overly messy hair, and exhaled loudly.

“I am not leaving this place.” His tone was definitive. He was not going back to London, no matter what he was told. He would stay here, and protect the now really pale man standing in front of him. His neck almost snapped when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.  
“Oi!”

“If you can’t give me one good reason why you should be here, I’ll drag you outside and give you a good reason to leave, got it mate! “

“Gwaine it’s alright, I swear.” He gestured to his friend to leave them alone which the long haired man did, not without throwing a death glares at the ‘posh prat’.

“See Arthur? I’m fine! Everything is under control and-" Merlin stopped as screams were rising from the bar. He quickly looked towards the source of the noise, only to see Valiant holding Gwaine by the collar and Percy attending Gaius who was now laying on the floor.

“No...no no no no.” Merlin’s body started to shake and his leg almost gave up. Arthur walked out and recognised the man from his previous research. Panic struck, he grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a bottle of rum displayed on the bar – and smashed it on the man's head. The body heavily collapsed on the floor while Gwaine was now gasping for air, holding his neck from one hand and pointing to the spilled beverage from the other. “No, not the rum, goddamit!”.

“I....I... is he...” Arthur was looking back and forth between the body and Merlin before being cut by Percy who, still laying by Gaius, extended his arms to reach the man's wrist.

“No. He's alive, barely.”

Everything got really fuzzy, people were moving around them, Gaius could be heard repeating he was fine, Merlin was sitting down on the kitchen floor when finally the old man voice rose above the crowd now gathered around them.

“Alright everybody, please remain calm. I will ask you to not contact the police as I’ve already called them" It was a lie. “Gwaine, Percy. The keys to the front door are by the till. Please escort everybody outside and close the pub. Elyan should be here soon. Merlin, and you" he pointed to Arthur, eyebrows accusing “ you are coming with me.” With no room for an argument, they followed the historian outside. “ We are going back to Morgana's, kids. And I don’t want to hear any protest”.

The two of them looked at each other, equally confused at what was happening. Arthur notified the old man that his car was parked just around the corner, and grumbling, he changed direction to follow Arthur.  
The ride, though quick, seemed to last an eternity. As they finally emerged from the car, Morgana welcomed them, cold as ice. Merlin, without a word, walked inside, clearly shaken. Gaius slightly bowed his head in front of her as an unspoken apology before following the young man. But her eyes had long locked themselves into the deep blue of Arthur's.

“ I see that despite my warnings, you still showed up, dear brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed ! 
> 
> See you at the next chapter !


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING : mention of paedophilia and implicit mention of suicide attempt.

**CHAPTER NINE**

Arthur stared at the woman standing in front of him. She had long black hair, green eyes that reminded him of the valleys he crossed to arrive in Camlot, and bright red lipstick which contrasted sharply with her pale skin. He could see no resemblance, apart if a cold demeanour and an icy glare could be hereditary. If it was not for her appearance, he would definitely believe this woman had been raised by Uther, just by staring into her eyes.

“I am sorry, but you must have made a mistake. I'm Arthur. Arthur Pendragon.” His hand awkwardly offered a handshake but Morgana just turned away from him, the sound of her heels fading into the house. The blond frowned, but he took it as an invitation to follow her.  
He tried to hide his surprise as he walked in. The ceilings were high and the walls were dressed up with old tapestries. A gigantic chandelier was hanging in the entrance and the stairs facing him were covered by a deep green carpet, which could let appear the old wooden floor on its side. The mansion gave him weird vibes like an unwelcome reminiscence of his childhood home. He thought that she might not have Uther’s blood, but she definitely had his fortune and his taste. He put aside the nostalgia and entered the room on his right, where voices could be heard faintly. The three of them were sitting at the dining table, decorated with an ostentatious center piece made of dried roses and olive branches. Disconcerted, he hesitantly pulled the empty chair on Merlin’s left and sat down. Gaius was sitting right across him with Morgana on his right. Unsettled by the longing silent that overtook the room as soon as he walked in, he cleared his throat in an uncomfortable attempt to speak.  
“ It’s... it's a nice house you’ve got there...”  
Merlin took a look at Arthur, and warmly smiled at the former DI, finally glad someone broke the silence.

“I think it’s time you know the truth, both of you." Gaius interlaced his fingers on the table and seemed apologetic as the words left his mouth. His voice sounded older than usual, as if all those years suddenly caught up with him.

The dark haired man peered at him in bewilderment. Morgana let out a weak sigh and grabbed the pile of papers that was patiently waiting by her side. Arthur, blinded by the richness of the room, had failed to notice it when he first entered. His interest was picked as he could see the Project Excalibur emblem on the first page.

“As you both know, Project Excalibur first opened its door twenty seven years ago. Its creation was to serve just one purpose : getting access to children coming from poor families or orphans, ‘The ones no one would miss’ as he used to say. I was in the first class ever created.” Her long fingers laid few documents in front of them. “It's me there. Five years old.” Merlin leaned over in an attempt to cut her through her speech but before he could, she held a hand in front of him. “I know, kids were meant to be ten to enter the project but my father got me in. Not to study obviously but at least, if someone would come to ask, they could say that little Morgana was a prodigy and currently studying ahead of the children her age. To that day, I still don’t know how no one got suspicious. I guess every body was too willing to keep a blind eye.” Her gaze was lost in the picture of herself, still young and unbroken. From a quick movement, she brushed the first papers aside and laid down a new row. “At the same time, the Essetir opened in the east side of town. You can see Agravaine and Uther shaking hands in front of the motel. This picture was taken the day the first room was ever booked. I took the picture and... the first room was booked for me.” She swallowed the sobs growing in her throat and shared a knowing glance with Merlin. After a deep inhale, she carried on. “Years passed, and so did the children. By the age of sixteen, I was living in that motel, making sure the kids would be at ease when they came in, offering them drinks and biscuits, to end up taking them by the hand down the corridor, promising them it would all be alright. Closing the door of the room never got easier, no matter how many time I had done it.” Arthur instinctively held Merlin's hand under the table, sensing the man shaking slightly by his side. “At twenty, I met Gaius at the Essetir.” The heads of the two men turned back to the old man, the worse scenarii overflowing their thoughts. At their reaction, the old town historian shook his head. “I wasn’t there for what you think. I came down in London for an history convention. The Book of Kells was to be displayed at the London Library, followed by a diner at which it would be discussed. It happened that the Essetir was the only place I could afford.” The men nodded, shoulders visibly relaxed.  
“And we came to chat.” Morgana continued. “I told him that my mother abandoned me right after birth. She dropped me in front of a hospital, with just a change of clothes and this pendant.” She placed a red velvet box on the table, which once opened, revealed a beautiful silver dragon holding a thorn-less rose. Gaius hold it within his worn fingers. “As soon as she’d show me the jewellery, I hold her tight. This, young men, is the family crest of Lady Vivienne. She happened to be a good friend of mine as we shared the same interest for the folklore and history of our country. We met few times during historical gathering and our friendship quickly developed up until her death fifteen years ago.” The old's man eyes were now foggy, lost in a sea of tears and memories. “ I was there when she gave birth to her... illegitimate child. We went up North, in her uncle’s leisure house. Five months later, thirty two years ago, a beautiful baby girl was born.” He smiled at Morgana who was still holding him. “ She couldn’t keep the baby and, broken hearted, left her to the father’s care. He gladly welcomed her, and promised Vivienne that he would protect her with his life.” Gaius stopped himself, his jaw clenched. If only he had new, he would have taken the new born in his care but he also knew regrets would bring him nowhere. He had the chance to cross path with the child a second time, now a beautiful woman, and got her out of this nightmare.

“ This is the day I learnt that Uther Pendragon was my father.” The disdain in her voice was thick

“But that can’t be true. Surely you are making a mistake!” Arthur tried his best to keep his voice low and steady, with great difficulties. If he had a sister, which, according to the story, was in Uther's care, he would have known. Especially as Morgana was one year older than him, he could not comprehend how his mother could have welcomed a child from an other woman into her household.  
“I...I remember growing up in a small dark room. I don’t have a lot of memories, just that I had to stay quiet. Uther kept telling me it was all going to get better one day, that I would be adopted. I had a teddy bear. It’s all I remember I’m afraid.”  
He did not want to believe her but the hurt and pain with which she addressed him rang too painfully sincere. They shared a defeatist look. In that moment, they realised that they would never get any answers, as all the witnesses of this time were now deceased. And as quick as their shared moment came, it went, chased away by the closure of the jewellery box.  
“I confronted Uther. Our exchange was brief. He admitted the truth but showed no remorse. I guess I’ll never know if it was just a facade he kept on, a way to protect himself. But that day, I knew I was handed the perfect ticket to freedom. I threaten to expose the whole truth : the bastard child of a Duchess used as blackmail in the creation of a paedophile ring.” Her empty chuckle was met with desolated smiles. “ And it worked. They bought my silence. I was out. Left on the sidewalk, with a bag of dirty clothes and nowhere to go. Gaius helped me as years went on, as I was struggling to adjust myself to the world we were living in. It was like a rebirth and I had to learn everything again.” The words died in her throat and her gaze felt on the table. The old man stood up, and from the dresser behind him, extracted a thin blue cardboard sleeve and with an grainy voice, he went on. “For the five years that followed, we tried to accumulate evidences and bring it to justice. But apart from circumstantial proofs, we had nothing.”  
Arthur picked at the documents and nodded, confirming by experience that it would never have stood in front of a court, and that is, if it managed to reach that point.

Merlin, who had been strangely quiet until now, jumped on his feet, searching in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He grabbed an awful looking bowl which was more than likely a piece of art and slammed it on the dining table, transforming it in an awful looking ashtray.  
“I managed to bring attention to the case eight years ago. God, I tried for three years, proofs in hand, to get justice! Where were you then ?” Merlin's voice was enraged, his fist hammering every words that came out of his mouth. Taking long drags, he was looking down at them, the smoke depicting around him the state of enmity he was in. Arthur gave an equally judgmental glare at the pair. As Merlin was hanging, expecting an explanation, the two were having a silent discussion. Defeated, Morgana rolled the sleeves of her black pencil dress and Gaius’ paternal hand covered her arm. Without contemplating her scar, she locked her green orbs into the stormy blue one's of the man standing.  
“It became too much. The last months, I had stopped sleeping, I had stopped eating, I was doing nothing more than reliving my past, loosing my mind. Gaius tried his best to make me keep going but .... I was defeated.” She put down her sleeves and placed her arms on her lap. “I was living in London at the time and he came to visit every weekend. I was so detached from reality that I had lost every notion of time and space. When I didn’t opened the door, he called the police... I ended up institutionalised. I was delusional they said. The more I talked, the more they medicated me. For three years I stayed there,Merlin. Three years....Until the day I denied everything I ever said. The irony of it. After that, it took less than six months for me to be released. Ten days later, you were stabbing Uther to death.”

Merlin’s body relaxed slightly, his gaze now directed towards the old man. His cigarette was long gone but he was still standing.

“With Morgana...away-" the voice of the librarian was beaten“- my words were just the words of a sad old man. I talked with the police but it never went further. I have been able to see the portfolio in Cardiff few months later and I identify her on four pictures.” His voice broke and she gently squeezed his shoulder. “But they told me it was not her. They... They barely looked at the picture I brought with me and they just ... decided it was not the same girl. And that was all. As she was never a missing child, and had never met with any social worker or GP, no case was ever open. And even if there would have been an open case, you’ve seen how it ended Merlin.”

The young man was now pacing in the dining room, twisting his fingers while shaking his head. Arthur was watching him, helpless. He went over all the story in his mind again. There must be something. There should be something. It cannot end like this. And it finally clicked.  
“Morgana, the pendant!” they all turned to him, inquisitive. “Gaius, you said you recognised her because if it! Well, that’s proof no ? We can link her to Uther and Lady Vivienne. And from there, we should be able to unfold everything : the Project Excalibur, Ygraines Bank and Merlin's portfolio!” he was now standing, ruffling through the documents, looking for the school picture. Before he could get to it, a negative answer could be heard on Gaius’ side.

“My boy... I tried but Vivienne's family refuted the provenance of the pendant, and with that, they definitely closed this lead.”

The blond frowned. His nails were tapping on the table, creating the only noise that could be heard in the silence that now occupied the room. In a messy manner, he ran outside, and reappeared few seconds later, face red and hyperactive. He hastily emptied the content of his bag in front of him, and search franticly through the pile of paper. The group was starring at him with interest. He finally got the paper he was looking for. He shoved it into Morgana's hand, alongside the small black notebook. “ Here ! At the start of the list : Morgana LeFay! That’s you isn’t it ? We can link you to Merlin. We can validate your story!”

She read the document over and over, browsing through all the names. Merlin looked at the former DI in disbelief. He recognised the book as the one Uther always kept in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Until now, he considered it to be forever lost or destroyed.

“The list is incomplete...there’s more children-"

“How did you get that?” Merlin cut Morgana.

“Lance- the police archivist- kept it in his drawer. He had been asked to destroy it but couldn’t go through. It was not sealed or labelled, and was never mentioned in my father belongings.”

“So the only solid evidence we could provide is not eligible.” The dark haired man grabbed a sit again, bashing himself mentally. “I should have taken it. I should have thought about it. How could I have forgotten!”

Arthur rolled his eyes in annoyance. “ I don’t think that going through the pocket of the man you just murdered was on top of your to-do list Merlin.” He quickly apologised for snapping at the man who now had tears in his eyes. He put an arm around his shoulder. “What I mean, is...don’t think that any of us is blaming you for it alright?” he was lost for words as the man broke into sobs, burying his head on Arthur's chest. They stayed like that for a some time while the landlady went over the portfolio. Gaius had left the table to brew some tea and regroup his thoughts. When he came back, Merlin seemed to have calmed down, Arthur stroking his hair.

They don’t know how long they stayed like that, gawking at the mass of information displayed in front of them. Arthur had dragged his chair closer to Merlin’s when he realised the man was dozing off. Half asleep, the youngest had made himself comfortable, head resting on Arthur's lap, one hand covering his eyes. The Londoner had tried to make him go upstairs in his bed, but he only got a faint ‘no' and a slight whimper for an answer. He quickly gave up, but kept caressing the man's hair mindlessly. Gaius had left shortly after, letting them know he would stop by the Crown and get ready to open the pub the next day.

“If we had the CD-Rom, we could try to identify the Essetir from the background. Could that be considered evidence?” Morgana's voice was soft spoken.

“It depends”, the former DI whispered, “It would need to be something unique : a specific crack in a wall, a unique piece of art or something so distinctive that there would be no doubt about it. I’m afraid that a lamp or bedsheets won't be enough, especially if it is the only evidence we can bring to the table.” He rubbed his tired eyes. Morgana laid back in her chair, and sadly shook her head. Finally, she yawned, as tiredness overtook her.

“ Do I need to prepare a room for you tonight or are you driving back to work in the morning?” she asked Arthur. Now standing up, she looked slightly smaller, her heels long gone.

“Well actually, I left my job this morning... so I’ll gladly accept a room.”

“You did what?” her voice rose and she quickly shot an apologetic glance towards Merlin who moved slightly, letting a groan-like sound escape.

“Call me crazy if you wish, but I had that gut feeling that something was wrong in Scotland Yard. I might have become paranoid but...something is not right, I'm telling you.” He spoke as if he was confessing to a priest, guilty of doubting his own colleagues and superiors. But over the years, his instinct had been right way too often to ignore it now. He would trust Leon with his life and Lance had proved himself to be uncorrupted, yet, he could not shake off his suspicions. The first time Merlin was attacked at the Crown, he tried hard to brush it off as just a coincidence as it occurred not long after his visit. But the earlier events just confirmed his worse fear : he was the one who put Merlin in danger in the first place. He doesn’t how, or even why now, but he knew he was the cause of it. “When I came here Monday, no one was aware I was coming to Camlot Morgana. No one! But not long after, this Valiant guy comes out of nowhere and tries to beat up Merlin to death? That is a big coincidence don’t you think ? And it happened again just few hours ago, as if... as if that guy was following me or something. It doesn’t make sense and yeah, maybe I am going crazy but I highly doubt it".  
The dark haired woman sat down again, her face now serious.

“Are you saying that you think those people got someone working for Scotland Yard?” her tone was full of accusation and worry.

“I...Yes. Listen : the guy who gave me the notebook told me he was ordered to destroy it and to deny its existence. By whom ? Umh? And it took me months to get my hand on Uther's folder, as if someone did not want me to re open it. I think...I think that I was under surveillance from that moment.” The idea made his blood boil and he tried his best to not wake up the man asleep on his lap as his leg started to bounce uncontrollably.  
With uncertainty, Morgana let out her theory. “Have you recognised any names from the book or from the project Excalibur list? Someone in your team, or in the human resources or I don’t know, a cafeteria worker?”

“No. No I did not.” Once again, he doubted himself about the decision he had taken. But by just looking down and seeing the cheeks still wet from the Crown owner, he quickly erased those thoughts. “ Hold on... “ and by mistake, as he leaned towards the table to reach some documents, Merlin woke up, groggy. He straighten up in his chair, hair messy, the imprint of Arthur's trousers on the left side of his face. But none of them seemed to noticed, as the blond carried on. “You said earlier that the list was incomplete isn’t it?”

“Well....yes.”  
He had finally found a blank piece of paper. Placing the page in front of Morgana, he asked her to wrote down the names she remembered. While she was deep in thought, he turned to Merlin, whispering a sincere apology for waking him up. The other one smiled warmly, insisting it was okay. Arthur caught him up on what had been discussed and assured him that Gaius was taking care of the Crown. As they were discussing the incident that took place earlier, a proud ‘done!’ brought them back to reality. With a big thanks, Arthur grabbed the list and read it carefully. And here it was. He put the page down with a shaky hand and stared blankly at the table. The name stared back at him mockingly.

Mordred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ! And thanks to my beta Underthisrain 
> 
> Alright guys, the whole story is speeding up now, the facts are established and most of the big secrets are out! 
> 
> I hope you are hooked ! See you in the next chapter !


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter ten! As far as I'm concerned, no CW or TW for this chapter. 
> 
> See you at the end !

**CHAPTER TEN**

Elyan tried his best, for hours, to stabilise the inert body now in his care, without success. The brain injuries were beyond hopes, and attempting CPR would be vain. He sat down, defeated, in the chair placed in the corner of the room, eyes fixed on the dead man. Even after many years of experience, he was still struggling to cope with the departing of a soul, especially as murder victims were an exceptional occurrence in Camlot. He actually couldn’t remember any such crime taking place in town for more than decades. With a shaky hands, he placed a white sheet on the face forever locked in agony, with its glassy eyes and its open mouth. He knew what went down at the Crown, and he knew the police was never called to the scene.

Now pacing by his reception desk, he pinched his nose, wondering what should be done next. He would forever blame himself for it, but he deemed his sister the only person to be trusted right now and gave her a call, for lack of a better idea. He was scared, even if he tried his best to hide it.

Gwen was on her way back from work. She was knackered, as she had to drive four hours each way to do a follow up with one of the family that had moved up north. They didn’t wish for anyone but her to be their social worker and she had accepted, once again being too emotionally invested in a job but the family had been more than accommodating , offering to pay for petrol and accommodation if she had to spend the night. Now driving on the main road leading to Camlot, her phone rang. A quick glance at the passenger sit, and she saw her brother's name on the screen. She stopped by the side of the road, putting on her warning lights, and picked up.

“Hey Elyan ! Is everything alright?” her voice was soft yet tainted with concerns, as her brother was not usually a caller.

“I don’t know Gwen ! I’ve been called at the Crown earlier. When I arrived, Gwen and Percy were cleaning around and a guy was laying on the floor ! Gaius , who called me, was gone and Merlin was nowhere to be found!” he was clearly panicking over the phone now.

“But where is the man now ?” her throat was dry, dreading the answer.

“ He's upstairs Gwen! He's dead! He's bloody dead! And no one notified the police! The guys deep cleaned the pub, no one passed by to check on that guy...Gwen, I don’t know what the hell is going on!” he was now shouting, voice breaking on every word. He was not scared, he was terrified.

“Elyan. Listen to me. You are going to close and walk home. I’m going to take care of it from now on.” Her tone was sharp. She hanged up straight away and threw her phone on the passenger sit. A quick look over her shoulder, and she was back on the road, hands clenched on the wheel. In a record time, not that she would be proud of it, she parked in the yard of the mansion. Without knocking, And with little care for the time it was she barged in.

Arthur’s whole body was tensed. He had given so much of his time to Mordred, to help the young man becoming a great police officer, and that was how the man thanked him? Being stabbed in the back could not compete with what he was feeling now, sitting at the dining table. What he felt couldn’t compare to being stabbed in the back. It was now way past midnight, but every once of tiredness was now replaced by rage.

Morgana and him jumped out of their skin as a woman entered the dining room like a storm. Her hazelnut eyes scrutinised the pair before she ran upstairs, opening every door on her way, hoping Merlin would be behind one of them. She finally reached the last floor and with Morgana and Arthur still tailing her, opened the last door.

“What have you done Merlin !’. The young man grumbled, woken up by all the turmoil around him.

“What are you talking about?” asked Arthur defensively, now standing between Gwen and the half asleep man. Merlin stood up, wearing only his pyjama bottoms and his hair as messy as ever. He turned on the light on his bedside table and exhaled loudly. With a nonchalant gesture, he presented them to each other, hoping to chase away the animosity now filling the room. Once everybody seemed to have relaxed a bit, Merlin grabbed one of his tee shirt lazily resting on the floor by his bed and silently ordered the group to follow him back downstairs. Gwen was about to speak, still on edge but he held his hand towards her and carried on walking.

Now standing in the kitchen, his coffee passing through the machine, Merlin allowed her to continue. He was too tired for more problems and just wished to go back to bed. Morgana, who had been the least agitated so far, kept glancing at Arthur who was clearly still weary of this woman. Gwen stepped next to Merlin, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry for coming in like that but Elyan just called me. Do you know what happened at the Crown today ? Were you there?” Merlin and Arthur shared a knowing look, and the blond answered. “There had been an altercation, yes. The man who previously attacked Merlin came back and things might have gotten out of hand.” He was still staring at Merlin, hoping he would not say too much. The line between what was common knowledge and what was part of Merlin's past was getting thinner and he just wished to not put the other one in a delicate situation by saying too much.

“The man died...this evening.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the faces dropped. Morgana went back to the living room and she could be heard ruffling through papers. Merlin instinctively got closer to Arthur, and as he tried to comfort him, the former DI slid out of the embrace. He buried his face in his palms, letting out a noise that could have been a desperate cry or an enraged growl. He shouted at them to get out and without further words, they did. Gwen was lost for words as she looked at the dining table, fully covered in documents. Morgana was in a fury, browsing through everything, her long hair swiping few pages on the floor. Merlin was now holding himself up, back against the wall, wincing at every object Arthur could be heard throwing in the kitchen.

“There’s nothing! Nothing!” Morgana's voice was punctuating very broken pots and plates. The commotion behind the door slowly died, and a flustered Arthur emerged, eyes wet and knuckles bruised. Gwen struggled to hide her fear as Arthur walked by her, and as he left the house, a deadly silent coated the dining room. Merlin strolled towards the women and nodded to Morgana, in a quiet approval to explain everything to the scared-looking social worker. He then moved to the entrance of the mansion, heavyhearted. As he was progressing towards the car where Arthur could be seen sitting, the cold took him out of the state of shock he didn’t realise he was in, and tears started to roll down his face. Slowly opening the passenger door, he sniffled and tried to contain his emotions.

Now both sitting, words seemed to hard to pronounce, and they stayed in this nightmare-like state for a while. Merlin's fingered brushed the back of Arthur's hand, smearing the tears of blood now pearling in some places.

“It will always hurt you know.” None of them knew if Merlin's words were meant for the blond, or for himself.

“I didn’t mean to... I...I panicked. And now Valiant is dead. I killed a man Merlin... I...” He broke into messy and ugly sobs.

“You and me both.” It was an empty pain-driven laughs that followed Merlin's statement. And as the shadow of the harsh reality felt back on them, Arthur turned to Merlin, and brokenly asked what would happen now.

“I don’t know.”

Gwen was drowned under the flow of the words escaping Morgana's mouth. She could hear her, yet her brain struggled to comprehend all the events that were unfolding. It might have been the shock of the events, or an unsuspected inner strength that pushed Gwen to talk, but nonetheless, her decision was taken.

“We have to hide Valiant's body. We need to make sure no one will ever be made aware of this. I’ve seen enough in my career to tell you that your case is closed. The best Arthur, Merlin and you can wish for now, is to never be traced back to Valiant’s death or you all gonna be the ones rotting in jail.” As she was finishing to talk, the two men entered the room, visibly exhausted. Morgana sighed and explained to them what was the plan now and they all sat back down at the table, grieving the lost of their last hope. They all talked in turn, examining what would be the best option to conceal the body. Arthur used all his knowledge from Scotland Yard, not without pointing the irony of using his experiences to create the perfect murder.

The hours passed and so did the ideas. The air was thick, asphyxiated by the horrors of their scheme. At the first rays of sunshine, nothing was settled and the birth of a new day only rang like a ticking clock. After some time, they all agreed to go to the Crown and update Gaius. Not that any of them were happy to bring the old man into this new mess, but they hoped the years would have had blessed the man with some wisdom they desperately needed. Going into separate cars, Arthur and Merlin followed by Gwen and Morgana, both vehicle were equally quiet, all minds numbed by the purr of the engine.

As the group walked in the Crown, the morning was halfway gone. The lack of sleep was visible on the four faces, and their allure just seemed miserable. Gaius frowned at them, suspecting something had happened during the night. The pub was currently empty, and the old man was behind the bar, polishing the last glasses from the breakfast rush. They sat down in one of the booth, asking Gaius to join them. He put the slightly damped cloth on top of the coffee machine and he walked towards them, the years dragging his body slowly across the floor.

Arthur talked, without stopping, for the next five minutes. Only Gaius' nod seemed to respond to his tirade. Merlin had his hand on Arthur’s knee, in an attempt to support the blond as he talked. When he was finally done talking, all the eyes set on the librarian.

“I agree with Gwen. As cruel as it sounds, making the body disappear is your better option. Or, we are all getting arrested, which would mark the definitive end of all hopes for those children.” If someone could age ten years in a few minutes, then Gaius would have.

“But it’s not gonna be the end though, is it ? There is more than one man like Valiant.” Merlin knew it, and even if it meant crushing the hopes of his friends, he had to say it. Valiant was known to be doing the ‘dirty work’, making sure than anyone who knew a bit too much would stay silent, usually by bribing them. And well, money was very effective, but in the few cases it was not enough, then men like Valiant would silent the person, in a more permanent way. That is what was setting Merlin on edge for the past hours : they would not be left alone, not after the death of one of their best handymen.

“What if we retrieved the CD-Rom?” Merlin carried on. “Can the police trace it back to an IP Address or something Arthur?” The former DI opened his mouth in an attempt to reply before being cut by Morgana.

“ Could you actually retrieve it Merlin?” her question was full of hope.

“Well I think.” He turned towards his other interlocutors “ After I had done several copies, Freya offered to keep it safe for me. She told me she placed it under her newly refurbished bedroom carpet. If we are lucky, it would still be there. I don’t know what happened to her flat after she ... passed, but my hopes are that the carpet have been left untouched.” Few days ago, they would all have thrown themselves into this lead but right now, it seems a lost of time. It was a long shot to hope a carpet hadn’t been disturbed in the years following someone's passing. But in this sea of despair, Arthur seemed to be the light.

“Do you remember where she lived?” he knew that if he could get an address, he might talk Leon into retrieving it for them. His friend showed great interest in the case and he trusted him to come up with something to get access to the flat.

“Yes...kinda. I know she lived in Kensington. We used to write to each others when she ended up behind bars, and she had always been careful and never wrote the full address of her former flat. She just described the building as being a classic Victorian three stories high house, a street lamp right by the entrance, a postal box on the other side of the road, the ground floor was used as a lawyer’s office and the first floor was occupied by a psychiatrist.” As Merlin was enumerating what he knew, Arthur frowned and shook his head.

“And her’s was on the second floor?” he finally asked, hoping to be wrong.

“Well yes ... how did you know?” Merlin’s face was surprised and concerned by the question.

“We can forget about the CD-Rom.” Arthur truly seemed sorry but no one around the table showed any sign of disappointment, probably from a lack a belief in the first place. Only Merlin looked even more defeated than before. “There had been several break ins in Kensington over the past months. All the properties match the description you made and well, they were all on the second floor. Who ever is in charge, they have the CD-Rom by now. And if they don’t, it would be like throwing ourselves straight into the lion's mouth. ”

Gaius left to serve two lads that were sitting at the bar. In the meantime, Merlin walked outside, in desperate need for a smoke. His lighter decided otherwise, refusing to produce more than a ridicule spark. His frustration grew as the wind was dedicated to make the lighting of his cigarette definitely impossible. He jumped when a hand cupped the tip of his cigarette and a flame appeared out of nowhere.

“Hey easy Merl!” Gwaine was grinning, his own cigarette hanging from his lips. Once the first drag had been taken, Merlin smiled shyly.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you coming!” And he truly didn’t, too far gone deep into his thoughts. The worker had a dirty bag hanging on his shoulders, boots drenched in mud and he was surrounded by a smell of dirt and wet grass.

“It's alright ! But...I haven’t seen you for my morning coffee though, no need to say my day have been sad and grey...” He pouted at Merlin in an overly dramatic manner before cracking up a laugh. Glad to have someone to chitchat with other than his partners in crime, Merlin truly smiled.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work at this time? I hope you’re not letting Percy doing all the work!”

“Nah mate, I was hunting for lunch !” he replied, proudly taking out two sandwiches from his bag. “But anyway, how have you been?”

“I should be the one asking you that, you’re the one who got chocked yesterday!” he tried to sound detached but his concern was definitely audible in his voice.

“I was devastated about the rum to be honest. I had my eyes on that bottle for few days and was waiting for my next day off to make it mine!” in a normal day, Merlin would have laughed at such a display of goofiness but the mention of the rum sent a cold chill down his spine. His eyes were now locked on the floor while Gwaine tried to make sense of the sudden change in the young man demeanour. His face suddenly paled, and his eyes darkened. The seriousness now displayed by Gwaine was a rare occurrence, and truly alarming to anyone who knew him.

“He is dead, isn’t he Merlin.” A pathetic whimper was the only answer he got. Gwaine dropped his bag on the floor and pulled the disheveled man into a hug. Merlin couldn’t care less about the mud and dirt. He gave in into the hug, realising that it might just have been what he needed. Someone who could truthfully tell him it was all going to be okay. A cough broke the embrace, and they both turned to be face to face with Arthur.

“Sorry, I was just making sure you were alright.” He refused to admit that the vision of Merlin in someone else's arm had woken up the jealous guy buried deep inside.

“Yeah yeah I'm fine. I was just catching up with Gwaine.” The construction worker kept wondering if it was appropriate to thank Arthur for helping him yesterday, and settled for a small nod.

“We...umh..we need you back inside to take a decision about ... well...you know...” It was obvious that Arthur was struggling to be coherent and secretive at the time. In his defense, he was usually on the other team when crime was involved, and the whole situation was taking a toll on him.

“Alright yeah, I'm coming.” Merlin dropped his cigarette in the ashtray by the doorway and said bye to Gwaine, before entering the Crown again.

Gwaine knew it was none of his business but the urge to follow them inside was hard to fight. And he was far from stupid. He knew the police never showed up yesterday, even thought Percy and him had waited for them. He had seen the concern on Merlin’s face and he knew that stepping into the pub would not be something he could undo. He paced on the sidewalk longer than he would have wanted to before sending a text to Percy, letting his boss know something had come up and that he would be late. Tapping his boots on the wall to not make a mess inside, he sighed, and with a smile built on incredulity, he mumbled “Sure, let's help them cover up a murder. Such a great idea Gwaine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright ! I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> On top of everything, our beloved characters now have to deal with a dead body... I guess Life won't give them a break ! ( I say that like if Valiant's death was not my doing... I guess I just couldn't make them happy just yet ... !) 
> 
> I got 2 more chapters written already, and I'll publish them soon, in the meantime, I would love to hear how you would get rid off Valiant's body if you were them, what would be your perfect murder ? ( if such a thing is possible ....!) 
> 
> And yeah, slowly but surely, our Merlin and Arthur are getting closer, this is still a Merthur Fic, I swear !! 
> 
> And you know the drill, thanks to Underthisrain for being a great Beta
> 
> Lots of love, and see you in the next chapter !


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General content warning for this chapter. Nothing as graphic as some previous chapter but I'd rather let you know. 
> 
> See you at the end.

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Gwaine walked into the Crown, boots still slightly muddy. With one glance around the room, he spotted the group of friends sitting in the back. As the old man stood up, presumably to serve him, he waved at him to not bother and strolled towards them. He swung one of the chairs from the nearby table and sat by them. They all looked at each other, taken aback. Greeted by an awkward silence, Gwaine giggled and shook his head. 

“Guys, if you want to get rid of a body and not get caught, you should all start by not looking so bloody guilty ! It’s basically written all over your faces !”

His statement was met with five overly pale visages. None of them dared to speak, either to deny or confirm Gwaine's words. The construction worker grabbed a sandwich from his bag, and took a bit too big for his mouth, struggling with a hanging piece of salad which was smudging mayo onto his stubble. Without caring to swallow his mouthful, he threw the sandwich on the table and clapped his hands together. 

“Alright guys, hit me with the facts, and let’s get down to it!” 

Down in his London Penthouse, he was staring at his phone. Valiant had not came back and he could not get hold of him. If there’s one thing he always promised to himself, it was this : not to get involved with Emrys again. But this whole situation was starting to get out of control. He could not afford to have the boy going to the press or lawyers again, especially as it seemed he had the DI with him now. During countless sleepless nights, he had thought about what would come from all of this, but in almost six years, Merlin had proved to be quiet and discreet. And he started to believe that maybe, it could have stayed like that. He was not known to be merciful, quite the contrary, especially considering his business. But as soon as the topic of Merlin was brought to the table, he was blinded. Sixteen years ago, he had set eyes on a ten years old boy, with messy black hair and eyes as blue as the sky and some might say he developed an obsession with him from that moment. No matter the horrors that had been done to him, the kid was always jovial and bubbly. Nothing could take off the bright smile he seemed to always harbour. As the years passed, the boy became a fine young man, and all the darkness in his heart was buried under loud laughters and sparkly eyes, as if nothing could ever destroy his spirit. And his whole clientele appeared to think like him, as Merlin were the most demanded child, and the money the men were ready to lay down for him was unprecedented. But with time, sharing the boy became too devastating, so in a selfish act, he had taken Merlin off of the market at the age of fourteen. He had sworn to never bring back any work at home and yet here he was, with little Merlin in his personal bedroom, only available for his own fantasies. Lost in his feelings and fake domesticity , he never saw the boy becoming an angered and vengeful man, ready to do anything to get out. Oh no, he never was foolish enough to believe his sentiments were mirrored by Emrys, but he had thought that there was something, a connection if you will. It was all a masquerade. Every smile, every laugh, every joyful moments were just a cover for the upcoming doom. He realised too late that Merlin had betrayed him, betrayed his trust. The boy was going around, trying to identify the kids, getting lawyers and journalists involved and he just stared, lost in the haze and broken. The amount of money he spent on silencing the justice and the press was nothing compared the pain burning a hole in his soul. Merlin was still playing along in his game, being a beater – and a great one, but it all had been smoke and mirrors. He believed that his lover – if he could even consider him as such – would grew tired of this already lost battle, and that he would come home, defeated, and they could both pretend nothing ever happened. It had been the most unwelcomed wake up call the day Uther was murdered. He knew then, there was no turning back : he had forever lost Merlin. Obviously, he had many more men he could send down to Camlot, but this was too personal. His heart already ached at the idea of Merlin dying from Valiant’s hand and he couldn’t bring himself to send an other handyman. If this was to end, he would go himself. And at that moment, he knew Merlin would be the end of him. 

  
He took a look at his phone again. Nothing. He sighed. 

Percival received a text from Gwaine, much to his surprise. He read it few times before putting the phone back in his pocket. If there’s something he was certain of, is that Gwaine would never miss work, or leave in the middle of the day. He looked at the ruins standing by him, their tools drowned in mud not far away. He was damned for caring so much for his employee, and worryingly, he started to walk to the centre, hoping to find him. 

  
As he walked, he tried to call Gwaine a few times, without success. He only started to walk quicker, just to be stopped by an other text.

The group was still quiet as they stared back at Gwaine. Finally, Gaius stood up and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. With his signature eyebrow, he managed to silent Gwaine, which was a miracle in itself. He strolled behind the bar and grabbed the keys. Now that they were alone in the pub, the old historian locked the front doors. 

“We need to be more careful. We can’t afford to have the whole town gossiping about this.” 

Arthur, who had been preoccupied more than anything, finally banged his fist on the table. 

  
“This is ridiculous! I killed him! None of you should be involved. It is my doing and I’ll face the repercussions.” His voice went from a shout to a dying breath. His gaze scanned every person around the table. “ Alone.” He left the table, not being able to contain his stress any more. He was pacing, his thumbs pressed against his lips. 

“No.” Merlin joined him and stopped his frenetic pace. He placed his hands the blond’s shoulder and tried meeting his eyes. “No. I won’t let you. Do you really think you’ll be condemned for manslaughter and get what? Five years ? Ten ? No. You won’t. I know how all of this works. They are .... He is a dangerous man and he will get to you. It might be by sending you behind bars for life or we might find your body floating in the Thames. I don’t know. But he will end you.” The last words were barely a murmur, a tragic promise. Merlin let go of his grasp and took a deep breath. He stepped to his right and by extending his arm, he grabbed a pint glass which was waiting to be polished. Awkwardly, he poured a pint of cider from the wrong side of the bar and shoved it in Arthur’s hand. 

‘’ Whether you want it or not, we are in this together.” He patted him on the back and went back to the table. 

“Who knows so far? I mean us, obviously, but is there anyone else?” Morgana’s voice was methodical and calm. She had a plan of the city in front of her and on her right, a page filled up with crossed out words and interrogation dots. Her past had taught her one thing : a clear mind is always beneficial. 

“Well, the witnesses.” Arthur felt like he was stating the obvious. He was now standing, elbow on the bar, turned towards the booth they were all sitting at.

“The town people are the last of you worries my boy.” Gaius had a paternal sad smile. “They won’t talk. We hate the police around here. Everybody has something to hide, from illegal cider making to illegal fox huntings. Us, townsfolks, we like to do our thing and not be bothered. “Arthur couldn’t help and let escape a small chuckle. Of course. 

“ Elyan knows.” Gwen finally added, quickly followed by Gwaine. “ Percy probably does as well, I mean, we did clean the guy's blood, you know.” As he was speaking, he helped himself to some whiskey from one of the bottle on display on the shelf to his left. “ What? You all didn’t think I could go through this sober, did you?” he took a large gulp and offered the bottle to whoever would accept it. To his pleasure, no one seemed interested and he nestled the beverage on his lap. At that moment, he felt his phone vibrating and glanced at it. “ Talking about the devil !” he dropped the still ringing phone on the table And gestured towards it. “Shall I ask him to join the party?”

Scotland yard wasn’t the same without Arthur, at least, it was how Leon felt. A new DI was yet to be appointed, but he couldn’t care less. In the middle of the night, he had received a text from the blond, telling him to no trust Mordred and he was on edge ever since. The message had no more information and he felt left in the dark. As Saturday afternoons were his time off, he offered to Lance to go for a drink in the nearby café and the archivist gladly accepted. They left work at eleven and walked the hundred yards separating them from the shop. They grabbed a table by the window, watching the London life unfold before their eyes. They talked about the weather, and other futile things before Leon acknowledged the elephant in the room. 

“There is something big happening Lance. I don’t know the extend of it, but I think Arthur got himself into troubles.” The voice of the long haired man was tainted with worry. As he took an other sip of his hot beverage, he showed the text message he had received the previous night. Lance glanced at it and sighed. He tip tapped his fingers on the side of his cup, face now grave. 

“We can not investigate Mordred, you know it. The last thing we need, is to get into trouble ourselves.” They both new it. Few years back, one of their colleagues had been suspended for looking into a fellow police officer, as he had doubt about their off time whereabouts. The case had been judge as a breach of data protection, and the officer had been disciplined and downgraded.   
Leon extracted two train tickets from his inside pocket and placed them between the both of them. 

“I know. That’s why I’m going to Camlot. You are more than welcome to join me, but if you don't, I’ll understand.” He dropped a fiver on the saucer, and put his jacket back on. He had Saturday afternoon and Sunday to figure out what was happening, and he was going to seize the opportunity. With a determined look, he grabbed one of the tickets and shoved it in his pocket. He loosely tied his scarf back on and nodded. As he was making his way to the exit, Lance was contemplating the square of paper and mumbled. He downed his coffee, hanged his coat on his arm and snatched the ticket from the table. In few big steps, he was back next to Leon who was trying to get a cab. 

“It’s a bad idea, isn’t it?” Lance sounded defeated. 

“Probably.” Leon replied. He was trusting Arthur with his life, and the pair had been known to be overly loyal to each other, and this loyalty would not stop today. He sadly smiled as a cab pulled up, and they both entered the vehicle. They were on their way to the train station. Deep inside, they hoped it would all be fine, and that they'll catch the midnight train back to London. 

Two hours later, they arrived on the outskirt of Camlot. As the train left, they looked around them. They had just a few information. Well one. They needed to find Merlin. As they walked out, they ended on a country road, with just green valleys surrounding them. Far away, they could make out what seemed to be an old farm. They felt out of place, in their well tailored suit and leather shoes. Lance pointed out the road sign, indicating Camlot was a two miles to their left. They were used to London and her cabs and underground, but now, they had no other choices than to walk. If they had knew their train was not stopping in the centre, they would definitely have rented a car. The wind was picking up now, and they both buried their nose deep in their scarf, hands gloved. They walked in silence for a bit, both wondering what would happen next. They passed a man who was drenched in mud from head to toe and who seemed to angrily tap on his phone. Leon deducted that the man was from around here and cleared his throat. 

“Sorry...Excuse me?” The man, at least a head taller than the police men, looked up from his phone. “We are looking for... a friend. Do you know someone called Merlin by any chance?” The man stared at both of them. Foreigners were not welcomed in town, the folks always dreaded those posh well suited men coming in their town as they usual try to invest into ridiculous apartment complexes or impose a development plan for the town. Camlot was a small community and they all wanted it to stay the same.   
“Depends.” He looked at his phone as it dinged again, and angrily exhaled. “Sorry. I am arguing with my provider. As an historic site, the dry stalk wall I’m restoring has to be rebuild with Carboniferous limestone and those are bloody hard to come by on that side of the country!” He passed a hand on his face. This was the last thing he needed today. After his employee had decided to not show up , leaving him alone on site, a shortage of material was the cherry on top. It was the first time since he opened his business, the Round Table construction Ltd, that such a thing occurred. His company was respected in the region, and he had never missed a deadline. And for this specific restauration work, he knew he was ahead of at least a week on the schedule, and that a day less of work would not impact the project. The problem was that without a delivery date for the stones, he might quickly fall behind his schedule , and that meant an unhappy customer and a great loss of time and money. Especially as the quote given was for the final result, not a day by day rate. And such incident could have devastating repercussion on his company, as his work was mostly promoted by word of mouth throughout the area. He was now fuming, and shoved the phone back into the side pocket of his work trousers. “Why are looking for Merlin?” He sounded more defensive that he meant, but with the past events, he was suspicious of anybody looking for the Crown’s owner. 

They were now walking side by side. Leon glanced at his colleague and took a deep breath. 

“We have reasons to believe that Merlin is in danger. We don’t... We actually don’t know him, but a friend of ours arrived in Camlot yesterday-"

“A blond lad, is it?” Lance and Leon shared a look. 

“Yeah, Arthur.” Lance carried on, talking for the first time. “We believe that they are in trouble and we wanted to check on them.” His words were met with an agreeing nod from the worker. The ruins of the Castle appeared clearer in their sight as they were getting closer to the centre.   
“Indeed.” No more words were shared after that. They took it as a silent approval that the man would conduct them to Merlin and Arthur. Now stepping on a old pavement road, their shoulders were weighted down by anxiety. Not that Camlot was unwelcoming, but the streets were deafening silent, reassembling a ghost town. The worker stopped in front of a closed pub and raised an eyebrow.   
The two men from Scotland Yard glanced around them. Despite the pub being closed, the chalkboards were still on the sidewalk, and light could be seen emerging from the small windows of the facade. Something was definitely odd. 

The group agreed to ask Elyan to join them as soon as he could and so Gwen texted him. About Percy, they were more reluctant. The man didn’t know Valiant was dead, and they felt like it would be unnecessary and unfair to burden an other person with that knowledge. Before they could agree on what needed to be done though, a knock on the window cut short all discussion. Gwaine smiled from ear to ear as he recognised Percy's silhouette behind the glass. 

“Well, it looks like it's decided.” He snatched the keys that Gaius had left in front of him and stumbled to the front door. Once opened, a quite confused Percy took a step in. He stared at the people sitting in semi-darkness, bewildered. When his eyes finally found the blond man, he cleared his throat and pointed in his direction.   
“Arthur is it? Could you come out a second please?” Gwaine did not even tried to hide his concerned expression. The former DI, who had forgot how massive the man was, felt disoriented. Merlin tapped him on the shoulder and silently acquiesced. The blond reluctantly walked out. His confusion only grew bigger when he was welcomed by two familiar faces. Percy had entered the Crown and Gwaine had closed the doors behind him.   
“Who are those people Percy?” Gwaine sounded worried, which was definitely a bad sign coming from him. 

“Well, what’s going on here?" the giant replied, gesturing towards the table and eyes staying longer on the unfamiliar woman, Morgana. 

Before any answers could be given, Arthur knocked to get back in. A quick chat with Leon and Lance, and they both agreed that they were all in it together. So it was time to introduce them. Gwaine opened the door again, letting the three Londoners back in. The door almost closed, running steps could be heard coming towards the pub. Gwaine popped his head outside and shook his head. He opened the door again and with a theatrical gesture, he let Elyan, out of breath, in the pub. 

“ Are we expecting more people or can I finally close that bloody door?” Gwaine was laughing, for lack of a better reaction to his own words. Gwen was wearing an apologetic smile at the view of her brother. Morgana was still buried into documents, scribbling what could almost be considered nonsense. Leon, Lance, Percy, Gwaine and Elyan were still standing by the bar, both sharing the same inquisitive look. Arthur was leaned against a wall by Merlin, who was still sitting at the table. Gaius was scanning Morgana’s handwriting. 

“God! Please someone, anyone, talk!” Merlin’s voice was loud in the silent that coated the pub. Arthur looked down and stroked the man's hair, as a display of comfort. He walked to the middle of the room and signalled to the men still standing to grab a sit with the others. He downed his cider that was left on the counter and stood tall in front of the crowd. Years of meetings at Scotland Yard had made him gain in confidence and eloquence, yet, he felt a stone of anxiety resting at the bottom of his stomach. 

“A chain of unfortunate events had made that we are all gathered here today.” He started. His arms were crossed on his chest, and his eyes were scouring every faces. “We don’t all know each other's but we have to stay united.” He turned to Merlin and Morgana. “A lot of things will be discussed today. Feel free to stop me at anytime.”. Before he could continue, Merlin cut him. 

“No more secrets. You can speak freely Arthur. I won’t stop you.” 

“Neither will I.” Merlin and Morgana looked at each other's. They had lived through hell most of their life, they had feel ashamed, stained with unspeakable horrors. But right now, in the Crown, surrounded by familiar and less familiar faces, they felt safe. Not pitied, not judged, just safe and maybe even loved. 

Arthur felt his heart miss a beat. Merlin looked so young, his eyes reflecting the loss of his childhood years. A mix between a broken boy and an accomplished man. He wished he could just offer him the quiet life he so deeply deserved, but he had learnt the hard way that merit and reality were too things, unfortunately unrelated. The former DI composed himself. 

“You are free to go now if you wish. None of you is held against their will. None of us will judge you for walking out now. Consider your choice wisely, as once words would be spoken, they is no going back to normal.” The room was like a fixed point in time, and not even a fly could be heard. He took it as his queue to continue. Their choices had been made. 

“My name is Arthur Pendragon. Almost six years ago to the day, my Father, Uther Pendragon, was murdered.” He took a deep breath. “Merlin stabbed him to death.” Few heads turned towards the young man. He only nodded. Arthur let his words hanging for a while, time for the people who just learnt the truth to digest the news. “Turned out that Uther was blackmailed. A one night stand had gave birth to an illegitimate child, which would forever stains the British high society if it were ever discovered. My father had no choice than to obey. After years of court battles, he founded Ygraines Bank. At the same time, a school by the name of Project Excalibur opened its door, and so did a motel, the Essetir. Twenty seven years ago. Hundreds of children had since been abused, tortured, raped and murdered, for the sole pleasure of rich twisted men, using Uther's bank for their transactions.” Arthur’s voice was loud and clear, every word was chosen to convey the facts without overflowing himself with emotions. The atmosphere was heavy, the faces falling apart a bit more each minute. “Eight years ago, Merlin did all he could to shade light on the matter but every institution closed their door to him. The night Uther died, he escaped the ring.” He tried his best to swallow the pain that was growing inside him, knowing He could never truly imagine what Merlin went through. “Few years prior, Morgana herself had tried to escape and she found her freedom through Gaius who identified her as the illegitimate child of Uther. They bought her silence, and she walked away.” Morgana smiled at Gaius, forever grateful. “The men in charge were never judged. The case was buried. Merlin moved to Camlot, and opened the Crown. Gaius and Morgana had helped him, making sure he was safe. I need to precise that up until a day ago, Merlin was actually not aware of this, and I didn’t know I had a half sister.” It was the first he had ever referred to Morgana as being part of his family, and it filled a void in his heart that he didn't even know he had up until now. “But when I reopened the investigation concerning Uther's death six months ago, it seemed that I stirred up some ghost of their past, unwillingly , obviously. After my first visit, a man named Valiant attacked Merlin. And yesterday, he came back. As an act of defence, I cracked a bottle on his head. He succumbed to his injuries not long after.” 

Gwaine could not take his eyes off of Merlin. He had always knew the man had a past he didn’t want to talk about but this scenario never came to his mind. He did not even fancied a drink any more. He just wanted to find those people and make them pay, no matter the repercussions on his own future. Percival was going through the whole story in his mind again, his issues with the limestones long forgotten. Elyan and Gwen were holding hands. Morgana had stopped her frenetic browse a while ago and her head was now resting on Gaius shoulder, the small silver dragon dancing through her fingers. Leon and Lance, who were sitting by a small table nearby, seemed the less affected, but it was only their past in the police force that had taught them to keep up the pretences. Merlin was observing Arthur, as guilt was carving deep wrinkles on the blond’s forehead, his shoulder now collapsing under the weight of his words. Merlin walked to Arthur and place his arm around the man. They were much more things than needed to be said or explain. But time was flying by. Merlin looked at everybody and he finally talked. 

“I’m sure you all have some questions and I will willingly answer them later. You can also talk with Morgana, which I believe will be glad to clear up some events for you.” She nodded. “But the main reason we are here now, as unbelievable as it sounds, is to get rid of Valiant's body. I am not guarantying this would sign the end of our troubles, but it’s a start. I dealt with those people in the past, and I am telling you that the justice system is not in our favour. We need to deal with this. Alone.” 

Lance and Leon moved to the booth, as Merlin and Arthur went back to their spot. Here they were, the ten of them, sitting around the round wooden table. The ten minds came up with a plan in the following hour. They went over it again and again, gladly listening to the expertise of the three police men. Morgana laid the page on the table for every one to see. Next to each name, a task was assigned. It was ready. It was time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are ! "The knights" are all reunited once again ! Of course, they could have met under better circumstances but I guess that getting rid of a body creates unbreakable bonds between people... even if I'd personally would just prefer a cider at the nearby pub If I could choose ! 
> 
> And I'm so glad we have Gwaine as a comic relief... I'll get him a bottle of whisky as a thanks ! 
> 
> And you guessed it, a massive thank you to Underthisrain for being a great Beta! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter and I'll see you in the next one!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a real content warning, but some graphic description.

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

  
The plan now finalised, the group parted ways. Gaius stayed at the Crown to keep the business going, despite Merlin's disapproval. It was Saturday mid-afternoon now, but none of them were in a weekend kind of mood.   
Gwaine and Percy, joined by Elyan, walked back to the farm, their current workplace, where their van was still parked. 

Gwen went back to her house, barely able to keep her eyes opened. Lance was the one driving, clearly worried that the young woman was not in a state to be behind the wheel. 

Leon and Morgana walked back to her mansion. They seemed to go along really well, their methodical minds being a perfect pairing. 

Arthur and Merlin stayed at the bar, glad that the old man had brewed them an outrageous amount of coffee. Neither of them felt like they could sleep ever again. 

Everybody was assigned a task, and it was all about to get in motion. 

Gwaine, Percy and Elyan, once the company van had been retrieved, went to the practice of the young man. Elyan had long calmed down, numbed by the bigger picture. His adrenaline level was off the roof, but with years of experience in the medical field, he had been able to get into his professional mode, only focusing on his task. 

“Those posh prats actually seem alright eh?” Gwaine broke the silence in the vehicle. He had to admit that Arthur, Leon and Lance were better than he expected. He could even picture himself sharing a pint with them once this mess would be over. And even if the appearances lead people to believe Gwaine was a social drinker, not caring about the company but the content of his glass, he actually only shared drinks with people of his liking. “That bloke, Arthur, looks like he really cares for our Merlin.” His words received two affirmative noises. Percy, eyes on the road, gave him a small smile. He knew his employee had a soft spot for the boy and hearing him give his approval relieved him. Gwaine always had a way to see the best in people. The driver finally pulled up by the medical building. Handbrake in place, the three shared a final look before getting out. 

Lance and Gwen arrived at her house in fifteen minutes. She lived in a modest house, a small abandoned botanical garden by her front door. 

“It's lovely.” Lance looked around, feeling a nice comment was appropriate. 

  
“Just wish I had more time to take care of it you know.” She hid her sadden expression before letting him know she would be taking a shower upstairs. He sat on the sofa, probably the ugliest yet the most comfy he had ever encountered in his life. Before she left, she had taken a small touristic guide of the region and had placed it on the table. He was now browsing through the pages until his eyes set on the small village of Mercia. It was about thirteen miles from Camlot, therefore, perfect. Not long after, Gwen was back in the living room, with a fresh change of clothes and her hair damp. In her arms, she carried what looked like a wool jumper and a pair of blue jeans. With a warm smile, she placed the outfit on the armrest of the couch. 

  
“We can’t have you going around in a suit Lance.” And she was right. Attracting attention on himself would not be great. His fingers lingered on the fabric, happily surprised by the softness and warmth. He got up to the bathroom and came back a changed man.   
She smiled at the view, asking him to spin so she could have a better look. 

  
“Perfect!”.   
He grinned, and after a while, cleared his throat, aware about what was happening. He retrieved the book from the table, and pointed to the village. She agreed, and just like that, they were out the door, back in the car. 

Leon was astonished by the mansion. With its high ceilings and decorations that seemed to be stuck in a time long passed, he felt like entering a museum. Morgana walked through the kitchen, and stopped in the patio. He followed her, his eyes marvelled by the flowers and the old metal work from the banister. She kept walking, passing the small fountain, and entered the shed. She came out a few minutes later, proudly holding a full leather biker suit. Under Leon’s questioning gaze, she chuckled. 

  
“An ex of mine never picked it up.” 

  
But it was perfect. 

Gwaine and Percy opened the back door of their van and extracted some planks of wood. Percy always told off Gwaine about keeping so many useless materials, but right now, he was glad. Both holding a corner of the wood, they made their way upstairs. Elyan was now standing behind his reception desk, calling his missed appointments to reschedule.

“Hi. It’s Elyan.... yes, sorry for the inconvenience. I can reschedule you for tomorrow morning if that’s alright for you ? ... That’s great. And sorry for not giving you any notice yesterday....oh no, I’m fine. Just a water pipe burst. The whole building was flooded but it’s being dealt with. I got guys here fixing the floor as well so I can reopen as soon as possible.” The same speech was repeated a dozen times, while the workers were filling up buckets of water in the bathroom, and throwing the content in the side walk drain. After at least fifteen buckets were thrown in the street, Percy spilled two more on the entrance carpet. Gwaine, armed with his Stanley knife, slashed the carpet in half while his boss ran upstairs. Elyan, still busy on the phone, nodded at the work being done before his eyes.

Percy walked back down, Valiant’s body propped on his shoulder. With a vague gesture from his index, Gwaine understood and rolled one half of the drenched carpet. A loud thump echoed when the giant dropped the inert mass of limb on the now naked floor. Gwaine rushed to the van and came back with a brand new plastic sheet used to protect the floor. He wrapped the dead man a few times, and with an complicit look, Percy grabbed the legs while Gwaine seized the shoulders. In two steps, the body was now laying on wet fabric, few drops of water rolling down the plastic. Gwaine stood up, tucked his hair behind his ear and strolled to Percy’s side. Both kneeled, and started to roll the carcass. Once done, they straighten up, and Gwaine went for a high five before shaking his head and lowering his arm, under the look of disapproval of his boss. Percy grabbed the ‘rubbish' and made his way towards the van. An old woman stopped him. 

  
“Oh! Is the doctor refurbishing the place ?”. The worker, who was not the chatty type, looked over his shoulder, hoping to meet Gwaine’s eyes. The long haired man emerged, smiling from ear to ear. 

“He is, not that he had planned on it though. The rusty pipes gave up yesterday.” And to confirm his words, Gwaine pressed on the carpet roll still held on the other man shoulder. Few drops of water fell on the pavement and the old lady shook her head. 

“I’ve told him many times, the plumbing is disastrous! My late husband was a plumber, and he always warned him about those pipes in the loo...” the old lady was now babbling about all and nothing. Percy made a small groan, his shoulder slowly starting to collapse under the weight of the water filled carpet – and body. The old lady warmly smiled and patted him the arm.   
  
“I’m sorry young man, you carry on! Have a nice day!” 

Gwaine wished her a good day, while a panting Percy dropped the lot in the van. He grabbed his toolbox and closed the doors. The two workers went back in and started to measure the length of the room. Elyan was watching them from the corner of his eye, rescheduling his last missed appointment. Lost in marking, cutting and nailing down, the two men did not see Elyan leaving the building, a bag of dirty laundry hanged on his arm. 

Gwen and Lance had been driving around Mercia for about an hour, stopping here and there, admiring the landscape. They stopped on a country road, where no building could be seen at miles around. The road was particularly curvy with a dense forest circling its side, a ravine on its left.

  
“I believe that’s it.” Lance finally said. They acquiesced and got back into the car. 

Leon placed the padded leather outfit on the large wooden table as Morgana came back with face lotion and two brushes. He checked his watch : they still had some time before the others were to meet them back here. One on each side, they started to clean the cow skin. Around an hour later, he received a text from Lance, telling how lovely Mercia was. He then texted Arthur, asking him if he would like to visit the village. 

Arthur and Merlin were still sitting at the bar. Gaius had refused to serve them any alcoholic beverage, which made the blond groaned, even if he understood he had to keep his head clear. He reluctantly sipped on his ginger beer, sighing. Merlin seemed unnaturally calm, no matter how quick the T-time was approaching. The former DI received a text. He read it, before passing the phone over to Merlin. They looked at each other, and kept drinking in silence. Arthur was lost in thought and didn’t realise he was fixing the young man. 

  
“It will be fine Arthur.” Merlin's voice was reassuring but it still managed to awake Arthur from his day dream.

“No... I mean yes, I guess it will. It's just... you never said... who is he? The man who sent Valiant?”. Merlin's face darkened and his eyes closed slowly as he took a deep breath. 

“He is the one in charge. He... we ... I guess he thought we had... something... according to Morgana, I was his favourite... I could do no wrong you know.. but he was ... is ....” Merlin struggled to find his words, as memory were overflowing his mind. From the men forcing themselves on him to the fake domesticity of the London room. He always thought he had it good compared to other kids - compared to Will and he had spent years battling his guilt, shoving his traumas aside, feeling almost as if he had been exaggerating his fears, his past. He could admit on certain days that he had, in fact, lived through Hell but if he was dwelling too long on the subject, he just felt like he was overreacting, and he could not deal with that. And since in Camlot, he almost reached the point of questioning his own sanity. No one knew and his past just felt like a constant companion, the Hyde to his Jekyll, wondering if anything had actually ever happened. And confronted with the facts since Arthur came in Camlot the first time, it had been an emotional journey, remembering things during the night and jumping at loud noises during the day. For almost six years, he had never said the name of the man out loud, that name that he had shouted, cried, whispered, begged so many times that it had lost its meaning. That name that if ever pronounced again, he was sure, would break him entirely. He did not realise that his whole body was now slightly shaking and that tears were lodged in the corners of his eyes. 

“I'm sorry.” Arthur said in a murmur. What was he sorry for? He didn’t know. I'm sorry for what happened to you, I'm sorry for what happened to Morgana, I'm sorry for all the kids, I'm sorry for what my father did, I'm sorry for re – opening the case, I'm sorry for coming to Camlot, I'm sorry coming back to Camlot, I'm sorry for the mess we are in, I'm sorry. I am. He shyly put his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him in an embrace. The dark haired man moved like a lifeless puppet, letting his head rest on the blond’s chest. Arthur chastely kissed the nest of messy black hair and tighten his grip. 

Percy and Gwaine stood on the new floor. It wasn’t their best work but in less than two hours, it was quite impressive. Elyan was back from the launderette, the bed sheets now nicely folded in the bag. He put them back on the shelf next to the others, in the small back room. He then grabbed a plastic bag containing Valiant’s mobile phone, keys and wallet and handed it over to the long haired worker. A quick glance in the bag from Gwaine confirmed that latex gloves, masks, spare plastic bags, protective apron and plastic hats were also there. Percy grabbed his phone and texted Morgana. In their text conversation, few messages had been exchanged, the same morning. 

**Good morning. I am Morgana LeFay. I would like to know if your company would be available for a small restoration work regarding ceiling moldings.**

**Good morning. My employee and I can pass by this afternoon to assess the work and give you a quote. Depending on the work, we might also be able to complete it. Please send us your address, and we will let you know once we are on our way.**

Percy quickly tapped on his phone, letting his new customer know that they would be there in the next half hour. 

Merlin's phone vibrated, and he broke the embrace to grab it. Morgana was letting him know that the workers were coming, and if she could let them in his room. He simply reply that he was on his way anyway, so yeah, no problem. 

Leon and Morgana laid down a tarp in the back garden, forever thankful that the mansion was far enough from the centre to have no vis-à-vis. 

On their way to the mansion, Gwaine and Percy stopped by the Crown. Percy was pacing on the sidewalk while Gwaine apologised to him but as they were nearby, he should really stop and finally give the cigarettes promised to Merlin on monday. The tallest just shook his head and gave the man five minutes. The long haired man entered the pub, plastic bag in hand, and waved at Gaius who already started to pour a pint for him. 

  
“Thanks but not today ! We’ve been called on a job! And as we don’t know how long we'll have to wait for those bloody stones, we can’t afford to turn it down eh!” His eyes spotted Merlin sitting at the bar. “Her Merl! Just the man I was looking for!” he shoved the plastic bags in the young man's hand, who glanced at his content. 

“We agreed on one pack, not five!” Merlin chuckled and shook his head. 

“Can never have too many fags eh?” and to confirm his words, he placed a cigarette between his lips. As the lighter was coming closer to the tip, Gaius stared at the man, eyebrow raised. Gwaine lighted it on anyway, and gave the lighter to Merlin, knowing his was never working. “I'm leaving now Gaius, promise! But I’ll see you tonight tough!” In a tacky move, he pointed his index finger and winked at the old man, who could barely manage to hide his smile. 

“We should go as well.” Merlin finally said to Gaius, already putting his jacket back on. 

“Can I offer you a ride?” Arthur’s voice was warm and full of benevolence. Merlin took a pick through one of the window, and as fog could already be seen forming on the castle’s ruins, he accepted the offer. It seems the odds were in their favour, as fog was not a common occurrence so early. They walked towards the car park situated by the ruins. Arthur grabbed a pair of gloves from the plastic bag and the keys. Merlin pointed to an black Audi parked at the end and indeed, the keys unlocked the car. Merlin could not help a comment about the car being perfectly fitting for the posh Londoner, and the blond smirked. They both looked above their shoulder and placed the hats on their head, making sure not a single hair was escaping it. The former DI sighed, not without a smile, and helped Merlin who was engaged in a fight with his own hair. After few frustrated groans, they managed it and Arthur took off his first pair of gloves. They extracted two plastic apron from the bag and placed them on the front car seats, before both putting on a new pair of gloves. They sat in the car, in silence. 

  
“We don’t look suspicious at all, Arthur.” Merlin stated not able to help, all while rolling his eyes as the plastic under him making a noise at every single of his moves. 

“In Camlot ? We would be lucky to even see a sheep on the road.” Merlin silently agreed. Most of the people living here were too old to drive, and the roads were deserted after five, especially on a week day. Thee night now slowly falling on the town offered them the perfect cover. 

Gwaine and Percival reached the mansion and parked in the front yard. Leon and Morgana were waiting for them, a new change of clothes in hand. As the night was getting colder, they looked at each other and groaned. They undressed there, on the rocky driveway. Their focus was stronger than the embarrassment they would have felt in any other situation involving getting naked in an -almost- stranger's yard. Glad to be dressed again, they discarded their former clothes in a bin bag and entered the house. 

The two of them, accompanied by Morgana and Leon, sat at the dining room table, enjoying a cup of tea. The banality of their act made them break into a nervous round of laughter. Spotting the awful ashtray on the table, Gwaine silently asked if he could smoke, at which Morgana nodded and dragged the pack towards her, grabbing one for herself. Not that she normally smoked, but she needed to calm her nerves, even if she seemed perfectly under control from the outside. 

Gwen and Lancelot found a small pub in the centre of the village, and stopped for a drink. The adrenaline rush had wiped off any tiredness she was feeling, but she wasn’t against a cup of coffee. 

Arthur and Merlin arrived at Morgana’s, and as expected, they encountered no one- not even a sheep. They exited the vehicle and joined the rest of the group. At their entrance, Gwaine and Morgana killed their cigarette in the ashtray and all of them stood up. They all looked like little soldiers, knowing what their duties were. Percy grabbed the rolled carpet from the van and walked through the house to reach the patio. He unfolded it with Gwaine’s help, and laid the body still wrapped in plastic on the tarp before rolling back the fabric and placing it back in the van. Arthur and Leon, who were now both protected from head to toe, unwrapped the carcass. No one was to access the backyard until they were told so. Morgana and Leon had prepped them a bucket of warm water and soap, and different tools. They started by undressing the body, throwing all the clothes inside so Merlin could clean and dry them. With brand new sponges, the two policemen thoroughly cleaned every inch of skin and hair. Arthur grabbed a manicure kit and scrapped under Valiant's nails. He then grabbed the cold hands, and brought them up to the head. In a morbid puppet show way, he made the dead man scratch himself, making the nails appear less spotless but free of any foreign evidence. In the meantime, Leon undid the stitches made by Elyan, and grabbed a piece of broken glass that Morgana provided them with. He slashed through the injured part, erasing any entry point of the stitches. Now done with their respective tasks and while the hair were drying, they stood up to get a better view and assess the injuries. As both men expected, the chest presented no bruises. On the back, old bruises could be observed, likely from Gwaine's chair attack earlier this week. The body had already been through pallor mortis, algor mortis, rigor mortis and signs of livor mortis* could be observed on his sides. The man had been deceased for eighteen hours now. 

Merlin washed the clothes and dried them, closed to the world surrounding him. Still gloved, he took one step on the patio and placed the whole on the wooden coffee table, with two new pair of gloves. Leon and Arthur grabbed it and dressed the cadaver. On Merlin's advice, they parted the now dry hair on the left. They stood up and admired their morbid work, satisfied. Arthur gesture to Morgana through the glass door, and she handled him the motorbike outfit that had been previously deep cleaned. The blond undressed and got into the leather suit which was quite on the tight side. He placed the hood correctly, making sure all his hair were tucked inside, and finally, put on the leather gloves. Without a word, he walked to the front yard, and sat on the front stairs. 

Percy and Gwaine took it as their queue, and both joined Leon in the patio. For lack of anything better, Percy used a plastic sheet with three holes - made by Gwaine- to protect himself. His hat on, he grabbed the dead body and walked to the front where the former DI was waiting for him, having heard the footsteps approaching. He opened the passenger door, snatched the protective apron on both spots, and Percy placed the lifeless man on the seat. Leon rolled up the tarp and disrobed himself, before grabbing the clothes Gwaine was handling to him. The worker then grabbed the tarp and placed it in the van, next to the carpet. 

Morgana then wrote up a check addressed to the Round Table Construction Ltd and gave it to Gwaine who was back inside. Merlin, who had been sitting at the dining table, cigarette in hand, stood up and looked at all of them. He walked out and Arthur handed him a hat and gloves and opened the back door of the Audi. The young man sat on the back seat that the blond had protected, and the car door closed behind him. Arthur got behind the wheel and glanced at Merlin through the mirror. A simple nod was all it took for him to start the engine. He gave his phone to Merlin and drove off. Gwaine and Percy drove off less than ten minutes later. Leon sat at the dining table with Morgana. In the last hours, no words were ever shared, as if breaking the silence would engrave in stone their crime.

Merlin tapped on Arthur's phone. He only ever spoke to give the directions to Mercia. 

Lance's phone rang. Arthur agreed to go for a pint and his was on his way. 

“Do you think they will find the pub though?” asked Gwen, concerned. 

“I hope.” He replied, trying to get the attention of the bartender. “I'll pay the bill now if we need to go and fetch them alright?” he said, as the man placed the check in the bar. She nodded. 

“We've reached our destination.” Merlin’s voice was scarily calm. Arthur turned off the car and got out before letting out Merlin. The blond ripped on the plastic from the back banquet and messily rolled it, before handing it over to Merlin. They examined the road at the flashlight of their phone and agreed that the location was perfect, the forest hiding a steep fall on their left. 

“It's not too late to stop Arthur, you don’t have to-" 

“But I have to Merlin.” All discussion was terminated. The young man stared at the blond for a while then left his gaze fall on the floor and pronounced a faint ‘thank you’ under his breath. Arthur took a step closer and tilted Merlin's head up with his gloved hand. 

“I have to. For you.” His voice was breaking. His fingers tenderly caressed the pale jawline. He closed the distance, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling red lips. Their cheeks were wet from tears. Arthur broke the kiss, his eyes lost in the two blue orbs, reflecting the grey of the moon piercing through the fog. He got back into the car as Merlin ran on the right side of the road, loosing himself in the dense forest. Still having the blond’s mobile phone, he turned on the flashlight and held it towards the road, holding his limb up with his other arms, the plastic sheet balled between his legs, not controlling the tremors. 

Squawking noises echoed in the valleys as Arthur drove backward on the damp road. He plugged in his seatbelt and dragged the cadaver on his knees, not without difficulties. It took all his strength to not shout on top of his lungs from frustration as every dead limb was almost impossible to manoeuvre. Long minutes passed before he was set in the desired position. He dropped his head behind, hitting the headrest, and exhaled loudly in an attempt to block the imminent hyperventilation crisis. The engine was still roaring and the car was still warm inside but nothing could ever chase away the coldness of the dead body on his knees. The road was barely visible now - either from the mass masking his sight or from his tears. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. He didn’t realise he was now holding his breath as he pressed down the accelerator. His right eye caught the flashlight in the forest, and it took all his will to keep the wheel straight while breaking. 

A high pitched noise was rapidly replaced by a cacophony of broken branches and metal bending. But then, the valley was once again deafeningly silent. 

The former DI opened his eyes wide open when he felt the car had stopped moving. The windscreen was slightly broken from the impact of Valiant's head but not enough blood had transferred on the now shattered glass. He did not know what overtook him : despair, fear, exhaustion or else but without realising his own action, he seized the back of the head and smashed it once again in the windscreen. And once more. The third time, he felt the neck breaking under the impact. He undid his seatbelt and laid the body on its back, torso resting on the passenger seat. He opened the car door, the cold from the forest slapping him. He buried his face in his hands and kneeled, unbothered by the dew soaking the leather. A mute scream escaped his lips, and his arms dropped on his sides. The slow purr of the British drizzle meeting the tree leafs was now accompanying the beating of his heart as his eyes were directed towards the stars, reminding him of the futility of all existence. 

Merlin ran back to the road, oblivious of the sudden rain and cold. He bent over the ravine, arms leaned against the trunk of a twisted spruce. Panting, his voice would not escape his throat as he tried to call Arthur's name. A hand finally appeared, gripping a moss covered rock, followed by a familiar face. Merlin was submerged by a manic laugh, the biggest grin plastered on his lips. His hand ran through his hair as he looked up, thanking who ever was willing to listen. 

Arthur dragged his body on the road. He would get bruises but he was not badly injured, which he considered it to be an almost miracle. The dark haired man offered his hand and helped the blond on his feet. A smile was also growing on his face, as he placed his forehead against Merlin's, and his hand on his shoulders. A coming car took them off their euphoric state and Merlin stepped back, pulling Arthur on the side of the road and tripped over a branch. The car pulled up by them and the driver opened their window. 

“As one of you ordered a ride?” Gwen's voice rang like a benediction in their ears and they jumped in the back seats. Lance handed a pair of trousers and a t-shirt to the blond who was trying to squeeze out of the leather outfit. He barely managed, banging his elbows and knees on the car door and almost hitting Merlin. Gwen parked not long after. 

  
“I think we need a drink.” Lance's voice was tired. Gwen, Arthur and Merlin had a sleepless night and were now above all level of exhaustion but they agreed. Arthur wrote a text to Leon. 

**Marcia is lovely !**

Leon and Morgana smiled at the text. Still sitting in the dining room. She extended her arm and grabbed a bottle of red wine and two glasses from the Victorian cabinet behind her. She then texted Percival. 

**You did a great job on the moldings. Thank you for such a quick and perfect service.**

Gwaine, who went back home with Percy as he didn’t felt like being alone, grabbed a bottle of rum at the news and poured two generous glasses before cheering with his boss. 

Gwen texted Elyan 

**I heard about the flooding, but I’m glad it has been fixed !**

Her brother chuckled, his nerves racked. He let his body fell on the sofa and opened a beer. 

Merlin texted Gaius. 

**Thank you so much for your help at the Crown. Grab a bottle of gin on your way out.**

Gaius clapped his hands and thanked the gods. He grabbed the bottle of gin and offered a round on the house at the regulars here tonight. When asked why, he just smiled, downed a shot and let out a vague “For us.”

Arthur, Merlin, Gwen and Lance walked back into the pub from Mercia and the bartender waved at them.

“You found your friends I see !” 

“Yeah, they got lost on the country side.” Replied Lance, faking friendly annoyance. 

“Not surprising, those roads are a deadly labyrinth” replied the bartender, white cloth perked on his shoulder. 

Arthur and Merlin shared a knowing look before ordering two ciders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is ! Damn, that chapter was so much fun to write !!! I really hope you enjoyed it ! 
> 
> Thanks to my beta underthisrain 
> 
> See you in the next chapter !!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small trigger warning for panic attack/psychosis.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Camlot woke up Sunday morning, unbothered. The dew was pearling on Her grass, a thin layer of ice was covering Her roads, and birds were happily tweeting Her a good day. Her Castle was still standing tall, in the remains of its stones, unaware. The castle was reflecting a time that no one remembered : a time where the most noble Knights would tumble its floor. A time where a King, of the purest heart, would sit on its throne. A time where its bell would chant the joy and despair of its people. A time that came to pass. A time that begged to be remembered. 

Merlin stood by the ruins, breathless and sweating, and dreamt of its past glory, silently apologising for staining its name. The sunrise seemed to respond, sunbathing his red and puffed face over the fallen towers. He only hoped that Camlot would forever be known as the great historic town it always have been and never as the theatre of a gruesome masquerade.

Gwen had drove Arthur and Merlin back late in the night, before going back home, accompanied by Lance. They slept at the mansion – or at least tried. Leon and Arthur slept in one of the guest room, and despite the twin beds, they felt as alone as they ever been. 

Merlin, nestled in his small room under the roof, had been laying down most of the night with his eyes closed, but his mind wide awake. The events from the previous night were haunting him. He kept picturing himself in the back seat of the former DI's Ford, while Valiant's body, which was resting on the passenger seat, turned his bluish face towards him, mouth wide open. His glassy eyes were motionless yet locked in his. The cadaver was extending its arm to get a hold of Merlin's throat and without a single movement from its lips, a disembodied voice cursed him. You will pay for this Emrys. He winced in his bed, shivering and covered in sweat. He tried his best to cover his ears, the coldness of his own hands painfully stabbing his temples. Laying on his side, his knees brought up to his chest, his body ached all over. The line between reality and fantasy was now too blurry in his mind. Uther's voice soon joined Valiant's, and the small room became too loud, too crowded. 

He propped himself on his elbow and dragged his body in a sitting position, finding a small feeling of security once his back touched the wall. His knees were still glued to his chest and his head was slightly dropped back, tears of fear rolling down on each side before dying in the fabric of his t-shirt collar. His breathing was erratic and painful, and ended in strangled coughs. His fingers were twisting the blanket resting under him, and his knuckles were becoming scarily white, even in the darkness of his room. He had lost track of time, space and any notion of sanity, constricted in a web of hallucinations and reminiscence. The door of his bedroom opened and closed, his small window was shaking and his bed – or his body – vibrated. Nothing made sense to him any more and he might as well be dead. 

Everything suddenly stopped in the room, and not even his breathing could be heard as the door slowly swung open and three steps echoed in the small chamber, like a tragic drum. The man stood in the darkness, arms opened in an invitation, his eyes glaring. I missed you. Merlin buried his face in a nearby pillow, his scream mumbled. His eyes were red and burning, his fingers were getting cramped and his jaw was painfully tensed. He didn’t dare to glare back at his door, and Valiant's voice kept taunting him. He is coming for you. He's near. In a pathetic cry, Merlin repeated on and on to shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. He stumbled out of his bed, crawling on the wooden floor, his body shaking like a helpless worm at each sob. He painfully reached the door, unable to know if his eyes were now opened or closed.

A glaring light took his attention back to his bed, as a silhouette could be seen laying down, arms crossed behind their head, a watch shining through the shadows. He shook his head frenetically, begging for it to stop. He’s here. He trawled on his knees, and dropped his elbows on the floor, cupping his face on the wood in an attempt to bury himself alive. A faint noise of ruffled fabric rumbled in the room, and a characteristic tap reverberated against the wall as the silhouette was now standing tall in front of him, coating him in velvet shadow of ruination. The form kneeled by his side and a cold breeze caressed his hair. Come here kitten. The voice was too familiar and he felt a sharp pain reaching deep in his bones. The tone, the accent, the smirk, everything was too real.

He inched backwards, until his feet were touching the door and propped himself up with the help of the handle, his shoulders stiffened and his head hunched forward. His own body weight blocked the door, and his knees were weakening. The shadow kept becoming closer and closer and clearer. Merlin's body tumbled down, his right hand still clenched on the handle, as the presence was now heavy around him, annihilating all air and light. In a miserable yowl, he implored the murk. “Please Cendred. Please.” His begging were only met by his own sad lament. Nothing ever came, and after long quiet minutes, he dared to open his eyes, only to be faced by an empty room. He ran his shaking hand on his face and jumped on his feet with difficulties. He took a deep breath and left his room. In the hallway, he grabbed his jacket and his shoes, and left the mansion. A last glance at his bedroom window made him spiraled again, as he saw a shadow lurking behind the glass. He bolted out of the front yard, tripping on his own feet and hands bloodied by the impact on the gravel. And so he ran. Mindlessly and hectically, he just ran. And all thoughts stopped once he reached the castle. 

Gwen came down in her living room and softly shook Lance to wake him up. He smiled emptily before sitting straight. He could see from the bags under her eyes that Gwen had barely slept, and he knew he must be looking the same. The veil of unreality disappeared late last night, and the true nature of their escapade had dawned on them, staining their soul. She sat next to him and handed him a cup of coffee she had left on the small table. They drank in silence for a while, their mind becoming clearer as the dark liquid entered their body. 

“He is dead. We...”. Lance's voice broke and he never finished his sentence. He could not bring himself to say out loud what they did, their macabre machination. 

“Yes.” Gwen's face, normally so soft and kind, seemed forever spoiled. They finished their beverage without further words. Like empty shells, they showered and got dressed. Lance put his suit back on and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He felt like he was a disgrace, a mocking joke to his own job and title. He sighed, and joined Gwen in the car. They arrived at Morgana's mansion not long after. Gwen, not ready to face any body else, waited in the car for Lance to pick up Leon. As he entered the dining room, Morgana greeted him, not even a polite smile on her lips. Leon was waiting for him, his well tailored suit back on as well. He caressed Morgana's back and walked out. She stayed there, her hair messier than it had ever been, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt two sizes too big for her. Her eyes were framed with smudged make up from last night and her nail polished was half chipped. Once the door closed, she left her drained body fell on a chair, and focused on her steaming cup of tea. 

In the car, Leon sat in the back, his gaze trailing the highlands passing before his eyes. As she parked at the train station, the two policemen opened their door and left the vehicle. Gwen was anxiously tapping her nails on the wheel, biting her bottom lip to stop a sob from escaping. Lance walked by her window and gave his phone number, alongside small reassuring words. With an unsteady hand, she grabbed the paper and smiled, more as a thank you, to the two men. Glancing at them one last time in her side mirror, she drove off. 

Leon and Lance checked the time of their next train for London and let out a relieved sigh as they only had to wait a mere twenty minutes. They stood side by side on the quay, hands in pockets, and scarf tightly tied. 

“Are we going to pretend nothing ever happened?” Lance asked, shaken to his core. 

“I can’t.” Leon’s voice was barely audible. “I still feel the cold skin against my hand, I still see myself cutting through the skin Lance. How could I ?”. His nose was buried in his scarf, and his eyes were darkening at each of his words. “ I didn’t recognise myself. It was like I was in a trance. The job had to be done, you know.” His words were cut short by the arriving train. Lance put his arm around his shoulders, and they entered the wagon, dragging heavy luggage despite their empty hands. 

In the town center, Gwaine and Percy parked their van. It was almost eight in the morning, but they couldn’t bring themselves to stay home. Since they left the mansion the day before, Gwaine had only spoken a few words. He had downed a bottle of rum at Percy's place, and passed out on the sofa. He had woken up in Percy's bed, blankets nicely tucked around him, but no covers would dissipate the coldness that now inhabited him. He tried his best to look detached, to not let himself be overwhelmed by the situation, but he could just not. His boss was not in bed, and he had heard the shower running in the bathroom next door. Percival had been fogging up his mind with the hot water for too long now, and no matter the amount of soap and friction, his shoulder seemed to keep the imprint of the weight of Valiant's body. He knew that his skin presented no evidence, but he felt it, constantly. He wished he could cry, or scream but the only reaction he had was to shut down. A knock on the bathroom door made him slightly jumped, before shouting back a faint “I’m coming.”

He dried himself up, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, and put on a pair of trousers. As he walked out the steaming room, he was met by an embrace from Gwaine, which almost made him loose his balance. He tied his arms around the smaller body and stroked his hair. His shoulder got heavier as Gwaine's tears ran on his bare skin. 

“We should go out alright?” Percy's voice was soft and saddened. His employee broke the embrace, and nodded, shook off his current state, and put his usual grin back on. It was looking so unnatural and forced, that it just made Percival even sadder. They dressed up and left the house. 

Arthur emerged from the room once no noise could be heard across the mansion. He groaned at the pain, his skin bruised in multiple places. As he reached the dining room, the sun was shining through the still closed blinds. Without more than a look towards Morgana, he strolled in the kitchen and prepared himself a coffee. As he poured the hot liquid in a mug, his hand gave up and the ceramic shattered on the floor, spilling coffee on the floorboards and the bottom of the kitchen cabinets. He stared at the it before dropping the cafetiere as well, bringing his hands to his face and screaming in his palms. 

Alerted by the crash, Morgana was now standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes dried out. She shyly walked towards her brother and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. She gestured him to leave the kitchen and he did, gladly. With trembling fingers, she picked up the broken pieces and placed them on the counter. She took a new cup from the shelf and made a new batch of coffee. While it was brewing, she moped the black pool ,now cold. 

Arthur sat at the table, elbows propped on the wood and his hands clapped together. His eyes were locked on the pile of documents still present at the end of the table. He felt too many emotions at once, yet he felt nothing. He was dazed and confused in the haze of the past events, and the few hours of sleep he had last night were not enough to make him feel like a normal human being again – if he ever could. The landlady walked in, a fresh cup in hand, and served it to the former DI who gave her a small appreciative smile. 

“Was it the right thing to do?” Arthur voice was uncertain and weak. He did wonder if they should not have stopped everything when they still had the chance. He could already see the newspapers title, claiming a former Scotland Yard Detective Inspector had left his job few days before killing a man and disguising the whole thing as an accident. It was ridiculous, and even if we was confident they could not track the body back to them, he also knew to never underestimate the police. 

“Was there a right thing to do?” she gave a sad laugh, having thought about the matter for hours herself. 

“Hmm.” His coffee was almost done and his thoughts were getting clearer. He was convinced that no matter what they would have come up with, he would have done it. If not for himself, for Merlin. He realised he would do anything to protect the young man, no matter the cost. And the kiss they shared yesterday, as desperate as it was, was a promise that he would always be there for him. Even if it meant putting all of his morals aside it seemed. He cleared his throat.

“I'll go check on Merlin.” And without waiting for an answer, he left the table and ran upstairs, quicker than he intended. He knocked on the door, and ended up entering the room, only to be met with an empty bed. He look around before storming back downstairs, snatching his jacket and his car keys and jumping in his car. Morgana dragged herself on the second floor and sighed at the view of the empty room. 

  
Gwaine and Percy agreed to stop by the Crown to check on Gaius. They entered the pub, trying to regain their composure. They sat on the bar stools as the old man made them their usual order, in silence. After some time, the historian made himself a cup of green tea and leaned on the bar. 

“ Are you both alright?” his tone answered the question. No. 

“What about you?” for the first time, Percy talked before Gwaine. A small nod was his answer. 

“We have no choice but to carry on with our life.” The long haired man sounded the most broken of them all, or he was just more willing to show it. He gestured to Gaius to drop some whiskey in his coffee, and the old man grabbed a bottle, without even rising his legendary eyebrow in disapproval. 

Merlin didn’t know how long he stayed there, sitting down in the damp grass, staring at the Castle. The sun was burning his pale skin now, and his eyes ran out off tears to shed. He lost himself in the tales the old historian loved to recount. He imagined himself, serving a Prince who would become a fair King. He was fighting dragons, raising birds from the embers, cheering up knights fighting in a tournament. He did all he could to escape the present time, and created an alternative in which he was a powerful warlock, and no one could ever hurt him. He was not feared, but respected. Without even casting a spell, he could create the most beautiful butterflies just with his mind, he could light on a fire with just a glance, to warm up the heart of his beautiful Prince, he could heal the injured and the ills, he could form the purest rosebud with just the right amount of thorns and maybe, he could even be carefree. 

Arthur left his car in the Castle’s car park, and frantically walked towards the Crown. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a small silhouette in the grass and stopped in his track. As he got closer, his shoulder relaxed, recognising the messy black hair. Slowly, he walked towards him and cleared his throat when he was just a handful of steps away. The young man faintly blenched but didn’t turn around. The blond erased the distance between them and sat on the grass next to him. 

“Arthur... would you... hug me please?” it was a plead, almost a cry. 

Arthur moved closer, ever so slowly and opened his arms. Merlin moved, dragging his exhausted body, and placed himself in front of the blond, offering him his back. A small sad smile grew on Arthur lips, as he uncrossed his leg and pulled him closer. The dark haired man leaned back against him, his head resting on his chest, and squeezed the slightly tanned arms, as if he was afraid he would disappear. Arthur tighten the embrace and nestled his nose in the pale neck, before starting a small rocking motion. In a few second, Merlin closed his eyes and melted in the grasp, his body relaxing for the first time in days. Steady breaths quickly followed, as Merlin felt in Morpheus’ arms. Arthur stared at the mess of pale and thin limbs practically inert on his chest, and kissed the head of dark hair chastely. Unaware of the slight wind, the cold enveloping them or their clothes becoming soaking wet, he lost himself in the moment. He could not promise him it would be alright, but he could promise him he would always be here for him. In a torn whisper, tears pearling in the corner of his eyes, he exhaled.

“Sleep tight Merlin. I am here. I am not leaving.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Chapter 13 is in the box! I apologised for the delay, especially as this chapter was ready for a while, but I engaged in a binge drinking weekend, which happened to morph itself into a binge drinking week, and I'm officially too old to survive through a killer hangover. Oopsie. 
> 
> As usually, thanks to Underthisrain for being my beta. 
> 
> And it's official, this fic has 3 more chapters to go before its end! How exciting ! 
> 
> Thank you for reading up til now, and I'll see you in the next chapter !


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14 is here !!

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Arthur did not know how long they stayed like that, interlaced in the cold grass. Cars were driving, wind was blowing, the church's bells were singing, kids were running, clouds were morphing, yet they stayed there, immobile. Merlin's chest was rising in a slow rhythm and his calm breathing was warming up Arthur's chest. Over the last days, he grew attached to the young boy – to the man – to a point it almost scared him, knowing he would do anything to protect him. He sighed, overwhelmed by the feeling tuning through his veins. He thought he knew what being in love was, he thought he loved his first fiancée, Mithian. He thought that Sophia had been his first teenage love. But no one ever told him that Love was devastating, crushing. No one told him that Love would birth a pit of fire in his stomach, feeding itself on ‘ifs’. What if Merlin would get hurt? What if he would loose him so soon? What if his love had been cursed from the moment his eyes met Merlin's? It all seemed bigger, bigger than a man meets a man, bigger than ‘they lived happily ever after’. It felt right and it felt wrong. They say passion is meant to die as quickly as it had started, but it was not passion he felt. It was so much more that he could barely convey words to describe it. Looking down at the pale man in his arms, he felt like a part of himself had been pulled out of his chest, just to be reborn in this embrace. Like Life had broken him just to make him whole again in the person of Merlin. It hurt, deeply. 

Leon and Lance emerged from the train, swallowed in the crowd of King's Cross. Even on a Sunday, the station was not allowed to dream of a respite. They both welcomed the cacophony surrounding them, not able to hear their own thoughts anymore. As they walked out, the characteristic smell of London overflowed their senses, welcoming them back home. They agreed to stop by a local pub to get a Sunday roast, not remembering the last time they had a proper meal. As they sat down, their eyes were scanning the room : it was a lovely place indeed but it seemed so impersonal in a way. They could not help to compare it to the Crown, which had been so cozy and so...lively, as if the building in itself had made a oath to protect them. Lance took a tentative sip from his pint as Leon mindlessly played with the cutlery. 

“What about now?” asked the archivist, licking off some foam from his lips. Leon sighed, dropping his shoulders. 

“Mordred. I don’t have a clue about what it’s all about though...” He ran his fingers through his hair. 

“All we know is that he is involved, one way or an other... but how?” Lance's voice was grave, weighted by all the theories flowing in his mind. None of them seemed that crazy now, and he could not bare to think about it. Both men straighten once the waiters approached their table, two plates balanced on his left arm and a sauce boat in his right hand. They agreed to stop talking, and to just enjoy their food for now. 

Hungrily digging in their well deserved plates, they talked about nothing and everything. Leon teased Lance about Gwen, insisting they were both pining for each other, but the dark haired man denied everything, not without making a comment about Morgana in the process. Leon rolled his eyes but they both ended up smiling. 

His mouth full, Lance’s expression suddenly changed, and he frowned. He put down his cutlery slowly. 

“I swear I’m not getting paranoid but this guy" his eyes quickly glanced towards the bar “was at the train station, and he has been sitting at the bar for ages now and he hasn’t touched his drink and keeps looking at us. And I’m pretty sure I just saw him take a picture.” 

Leon, who had his back turned, nodded. He wiped his mouth with the cheap paper napkin and excused himself. He stood up and strolled to the bar, finding himself next to the man. He quickly got the attention of the bartender and asked for the toilets. The barman pointed his finger to a small wooden door and Leon thanked him. He came back at the table few minutes later and sat down. 

“I'm pretty sure I saw him sending our picture to someone.” Without a word, they both agreed to act as if their discussion was light and joyful. Lance raised his glass and shouted a clear “Good one mate" and laughed. Leon joined him and they cheered. In-between their act, they overheard the bartender giving the pub's address to their stalker. 

“Do you wanna go or are we staying for an other round?” Lance asked, dropping his used napkin in the now empty plate. Leon bottomed up his drink and grinned from ear to ear. Lance chuckled and shook his head. 

“Of course I want an other round.” It was more than just drinks though. They both wanted to see what would be coming. They did not know if they were being brave or just reckless at this point, but if answers would come to them spontaneously, they could not refuse such an opportunity. When the waiter came back to clear their table, they ordered an other round, and they joked loud enough for the other man to hear. 

“It seems we're gonna be here for a while.” Lance finished his beer and handed the empty glass to the employee, who politely smiled back. The archivist could see the man at the bar smirking. 

At the Crown, Gwaine was starting to be slightly intoxicated but at least, a smile was back in his lips. The two construction workers were now sitting at a small table by the doorway, and they had long stopped hiding their liquors in coffee cups, now proudly sharing a bottle. They brushed the topic of the nature of their relationship, helped by the alcohol. Were they colleagues, best friends, lovers, nothing? Gwaine took another shot, letting his head fall backward and shook his shoulders. His hair was a neat mess, and he ran a hand through it, before locking his eyes into Percy's. 

“We are an old married couple, deal with it.” He winked at his boss who raised an eyebrow. “I mean, we bicker about nothing and everything right? I always make your lunch or go and buy it for you, I keep flirting with everybody but never go as far as ending in their bed, we live in different houses and have sex once a decade. Told you : old married couple.” Percy laughed openly, leaning back into his chair. He dropped his palm on his knees and tried to breath normally again. But he never once looked Gwaine in the eyes. When his laughter was gone, he crossed his arms, looking suddenly nostalgic. Gwaine cleared his throat and joined his hand on the table.   
“What I mean Percy,” he couldn’t look the man in the eyes either, “is that if I have to spend the rest of life single, I’ll gladly be single with you.” His boss turned his head back on him, not used to have Gwaine speaking so openly about his feelings. He always was a kind of man to babble but to, in fact, say nothing. And he could see that his employee was trying really hard to not speak anymore. It was not a love declaration, that would never suit them anyway. It was just declaring the obvious, what had been going on between them, for more than a decade. Percy just did not understand why. Why now. And Gwaine seemed to hear the unspoken question. His expression darkened, eyes blurred by the whiskey. 

  
“I just want you to know it. If we ever end up behind bars, you know.” The long haired man drank to his words. If being part of the cover up of Valiant’s death meant his own life was over, then so be it. But he would not get caught before clearing things up with Percy. As usual, his boss stayed quiet. He was just harbouring a faint and soft smile. They were not colleagues, they were not best friends, they were not lovers, they were not nothing, they were them and that’s was perfect. 

It was almost noon, and Arthur’s leg were numb and frozen. His back had gave up a long time ago, and he had let himself fall backward gently, making sure Merlin would not wake up. He had left his left arm for Merlin to hug, and had bent his right one under his head. Naturally, the dark haired man curled up and Arthur had seen the opportunity to stretch his legs. Not an inch of the pale body was now in contact with the grass. Arthur's had been shocked at the weight – or lack of – of the body resting on him. He had never been a patient man, or an attentive lover for the matter, but if the man sleeping on his chest would never wake up, then he would stay here, cutting the cold emanating from the earth with his own body, pushing away his own discomfort. And he could not care less about the random glares some dog walkers would give them occasionally : the ridiculousness of the picture was worth it if it meant Merlin was momentarily peaceful. 

Lance and Leon had stopped at two pints and had switched up to coffee, confident that having a clear mind would come in handy. It was half past twelve and the pub was getting busier. Every time the door opened, Lance fixed his eyes on it before faintly shaking his head. Until his eyes widen. He slowly put down his cup he forgot he was holding. Leon tried his best not to turn around, and instead raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Lance leaned forward slightly and kept the happy pretenses by smiling happily as if they were in the middle of a funny story. 

“Mordred just entered, he is now shaking the man's hand.” Leon laughed, but his eyes were giving up his worry. Pretending they did not see him, they carried on talking about random topics. As they were debating whether flavoured ciders were worth all the fuss, Mordred and the man squeezed themselves next to them. Leon slid slightly to let Mordred some room, while Lance grabbed his jacket to move at the far end of the bench as the man had wide shoulders. 

“Leon, Lance, I would like you to meet Alator.” The courtesy in Mordred’s voice sent chill down their spines as the man stared at them both, and gave them a polite nod. His bold head and his neck tattoo made him look vicious, and his eyes were cold. He almost looked like a caricature of a bad guy, but none of them would ever dare say that out loud. Definitely brave, not reckless. 

“How was Camlot?” before they could answer, Mordred carried on. “ Because we have a problem. I don’t care what happened or did not happen, just so we’re clear guys, but the Boss himself is planning a trip in town tomorrow.” Lance and Leon shared a confused look. 

“Merlin and Morgana need to leave Camlot.” It was the first time Alator spoke and they both slightly jumped at the sound if his voice. 

“I don’t understand.” Lance find the strength to talk, but barely managed to hide his trembling voice.

Mordred glanced above his shoulder and silently ordered a pint, pointing at Alator's drink to make himself clear. No words were shared until the beer appeared on the table. The young police man set the glass aside, and pulled a cardboard sleeve from his bag. Two photographs were now laid on the sticky table. Leon tensed, slapped by suddenly facing Valiant's picture, very much alive. Lance understood from his friend’s reaction who was the man on the first photo, and he turned away slightly, his elbows now propped on the wood and his chin perched on his closed fist. 

“ I take it you know Valiant then. I don’t want to hear anything, it’s none of my business and I don’t care. Understood?” Mordred knew the man had not come back and he had speculated that he was dead, and the body language of his colleagues just confirmed his doubt. He placed his index on the other picture, changing the topic. Leon and Lance focused on it, unsettled by the dark eyes and stern expression of the man. Longish hair were framing his face, and from the collar and shoulders visible on the photograph, they could see he was dressed in a really expensive suit, and he was clearly strongly built. “Meet the Boss. Cendred.” For a split second, they could have swore that Mordred's voice trembled with fear when he pronounced the name.

“He is almost never leaving his Penthouse, and getting a decent photograph took us more than a year.” Alator spoke as a matter of fact. Mordred nodded and carried on. 

“ Judging by your reactions when I arrived, I take it you know about his little business.” They acquiesced. “Then I owe you an explanation.” He drank half of his beer and continued, his eyes locked on the table. “ I was born in the ring. My name is Mordred MacMarbh, but it’s not my father’s name. It means ‘dead son' in Irish.” He smirked and finished his pint. “I am twenty.” Leon was about to interfere but Mordred stopped him. “I know Leon, I am not twenty five like you all thought. Not all kids born in this mess are declared you know but I was...it’s complicated.” He grabbed Alator’s drink and downed half of it. “I basically replaced an other kid... He was four but passed away, so the parents, whoever they were, decided to get married and by law, they had to re-register the kid. I was home-schooled all my life. I just don’t know how they pulled that off you know...” His anger was clearly showing now. They could not guess if it was directed to those people or to the whole incompetent system that was their country. He inhaled deeply. “So I grew up there, moved from room to room, places to places, hands to hands...And as year passed, Cendred saw something in me. When you reach a certain age you see, they kind of decide of your path you know... beater, prostitute or what the hell those deranged minds need. They decided I would be a perfect mole. So I entered the Police force, to feed them insights, and alert them if some of their activities were raising suspicion.” 

Leon’s mind was overflowed with information. Still confused by Mordred’s....confession. He knew the man for three years and had never had any doubt until few days ago, but he was also certain that Mordred had never stopped them in any investigation : he always was really meticulous about handling evidences, never asked question about others officer cases or else. And he would never have guessed the boy was just twenty years old. His baby face now made a lot more sense in a way. 

“But I never actively played my part as a mole. I fed them with the bare minimum. So before you accuse me : no. I did not talked about Arthur's little trip to Camlot. Never had, never will.” 

Leon and Lance did not look completely convinced, but they were still listening. 

“And Merlin is famous, you know. The man is almost a legend. The oldest children narrate his tale to the youngest kids, as a sparkle of hope. But most of us never saw him. I spent years at the Essetir and all I’ve ever seen was like a shadow in the corridors. I think he was a beater ; I remember him bringing kids, and he was often talking with the adults. From my child point of view, he always looked like an important man. Rumours had it he was held captive by Cendred, as his trophy or something. But it’s all a bit blurry...”

He finished Alator's beer and cleared his throat. 

“Anyway. I was given direct orders to notify Cendred with every single one of Arthur's actions, and his team’s. And during the first months at Scotland Yard, nothing ever happened. But then, I heard that Arthur was looking for his father's case, and that was not good. I tried everything to delay Arthur’s search, hoping he would give up but I underestimated him...He did not let go and finally put his hand on the folder. I had to tell Cendred.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper, his cheeks now slightly red and his glare elusive, tainted with shame. “ I could not risk having Cendred learning it from an other source.” He was looking like a lost teenager now. The pub suddenly felt too crowded and too loud. Silence fell between them, now too aware of their surrounding. They all agreed to leave the place, in desperate need for some fresh air, as if exited the pub would leave behind their discussion. They paid the bill and the four of them walked out, welcoming the fresh wind on their skin. Mordred had not look at any of them since they had left the pub, and his behaviour contrasted drastically with Alator’s, who constantly seemed on high alert. And he was the one to finally break the silence. 

“There is a more pressing matter. Cendred is leaving for Camlot tomorrow. Something needs to be done.” Lost in Mordred’s word, the two policemen had, in fact, forgotten about it. 

“We need to call Arthur then. Or Morgana.” Leon was already browsing through his phone, silently glad the woman had left him her number. But he got stopped by Lance. It seems that Leon had been easier to convince than the archivist. Lance understood though, but he had never worked with Mordred like Leon had, and therefore, was not that keen to trust the young man just yet. And if they were going to loose half an hour in explication, then they would. They all stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, earning groans from Londoners in a rush. Lance gestured towards a park nearby, stating they would finish their discussion there, and then they’d take a decision. Leon agreed and put away his phone. They both lead, Mordred and Alator not far behind. Behind an old tree and surrounded by an open metal fence, Lance spotted a stone table and benches and walked towards it. His colleague sat next him. Alator sat down in front of Lance, and Mordred in front of Leon. 

“Alright,” Lance started, “ in all this mess, who are you?” he pointed to Alator. The archivist who was known to be a kind and calm person was now looking like a storm, and if eyes could kill, Alator’s body would be dead cold on the floor by now.

“I was hired by Uther, many years ago. My duty was to keep an eye on Morgana, to make sure she was alrightt.” 

“Clearly you failed!” Leon bit. He knew what she went through, and he could not listen to someone who was pretending that he had protected her. 

“But I did.” Alator replied, his jaw tensed and his fists clearly clenched on the table. “I made sure she was never alone in a room with the most violent clients. I made sure she would never lose her pendant. I made sure she would one day leave. It might not have been perfect, but don’t you dare say I failed her.” 

Lance nodded, half content with the answer. Not caring about the animosity between the two men, he carried on with his questions. 

“If you were hired to protect Morgana, what’s your business with Mordred?”. He sounded suspicious, but it was mostly curiosity. Alator turned to Mordred, his eyes suddenly softer. The young man let out a small ‘go on’, but never looked up to any of them. 

“Like Mordred said, he was born in the ring... It often happens that a girl gets pregnant, and they love it : they get kids that are not always declared, so they can’t be looked for if something happens, you know... it’s like their own factory.” Alator spitted those words, disgusted. “And at twelve years old, Morgana got pregnant.” He swallowed, a sob stuck in his throat. “And I promised myself to look after the new born as well. Morgana has been told her baby did not survived, as it was often the case : they’d rather avoid the rebellion of a young mother. A grieving girl is easier to deal with...and it’s just an extra mental game to break them down.”

“So you are Morgana's son?” Leon softly asked Mordred. He only got a small cry as an answer, but he could see the resemblance by just glancing at his young colleague : the piercing light eyes, the dark hair, the porcelain skin... Before lance could carry on, Alator continued. 

“To that day, I don’t know the father and we will never know I guess.” The four of them agreed, wincing at the implicit meaning. Lance felt guilty to have pushed the matter, but he quickly reasoned himself, knowing he could not let anything unanswered, for the sake of everybody's safety.

“Does Cendred know?” 

“He knows I'm alive, but I don’t know if he knows I’m aware of my mother's identity.” 

It was enough for Lance. They decided to call Arthur. 

Merlin slightly moved when something in Arthur’s pocket vibrated. He lazily opened his eyes before panicking. He stood up in rush, and planted his knee in Arthur's right thigh, and stuck his elbows in the blond’s stomach. The former DI let out a loud growl of pain, and got up, making Merlin roll in the grass. The dark haired man, now aware of his surrounding, blushed and babbled some apologies. Arthur rubbed his abdomen with one hand, and dived in his pocket with other to reach his still ringing phone. He glanced at Leon's name for a second and picked up. 

“Arthur speaking.” As he was talking, he offered his hand to Merlin, who was still down in the grass. He lifted the man effortlessly, and made a mental note to go and eat something with Merlin soon. The young man made an apologetic face at the view of Arthur’s back, wet patches and grass stains painting his jacket. The former DI just smiled at him, and brushed the subject off with a quick hand gesture. His innocent grin was quickly replaced with a frown, as Leon was talking. Merlin saw the attitude change and crossed his arms. Extremely focused on his colleague’s tale, Arthur started to pace on the grass, eyes looking everywhere but Merlin. Time to time, the blond would let escape some groans or would just sigh. After what felt like hours, he hung up, thanking Leon for letting him know. He stared at nothing for a few seconds, before finally turning back to Merlin. There was no easy way to say it, and the longer he stayed quiet, the longer he felt guilty over Merlin’s anxious finger twisting. He inhaled deeply and walked to him, before grabbing the young man’s hands. He held them firmly, and closed the distant separating them. 

Merlin's lips were dry and chipped, but he lost himself in the kiss. He could not tell anymore if their skins were boiling or frozen. The dark haired man widen his eyes in surprise for a split second, before melting under Arthur's touch. He freed his hands and pulled the blond closer, loosing his fingers in the short hair of the man's neck. The former DI anchored his hands in Merlin's hips, needy but ever so softly, afraid he would involuntarily break him. They let go of each other at the same time, and Arthur pulled him in an embrace, nestling his nose into the pale neck. He whispered, almost inaudibly. 

“ We need to leave. “ 

Merlin broke the embrace, and locked his blue orbs in Arthur's. 

“ What now?” he was not annoyed, he was tired. 

“Cendred is coming tomorrow.” Arthur had thought about a millions ways about how to say it, but nothing could have tempered the hard truth of the words. He did not take his eyes off of Merlin, yet the young man was stoic and unresponsive. He fought himself to not repeat himself, knowing Merlin must have heard him but the man’s reaction, compared to all the one he had imagine, was frightening him. He had expected an outburst of cries, a river of questions, a panic attack, denial or anger. Anything but this. 

“Okay.” Merlin's voice was crystal clear and unshaken. His body was relaxed and nonchalant, and he swore he could see the start of a smile. Arthur did not have the heart to question him, and just went with it. His own smile was forced, almost painful. Merlin suddenly snapped his fingers, now fully grinning. 

“Oh! We should definitely stop by that chippy around the corner! You’ll love their chips! Your London fish'n'chips are nothing compared to ours... well I guess. I’m actually vegetarian! But their mushy peas or definitely worth it ! And we can order to take away, I’m sure your sister would love it ! They have fisherman's pies if you don’t fancy anything fry though ! I bet Morgana would prefer that. They always have a different selection of homemade stuff anyway : pies, scotch eggs, Welsh rarebits- those are so good. And their banoffee pie is heaven on a plate! You'll definitely find something to eat there!” he was now bouncing on his feet, and it looked like he totally forgot to breath for a while. He clapped his hands together excitingly. “Alright, let's go.” 

Arthur struggled to keep up with him, confused as ever. He was now walking in long strides, babbling about everything they passed by. 

“They said Camelot castle was once the hiding place for the Holy Grail you know, or the Nanteos Cup as we call it here. And my cottage, well the Crown, was once used to trial witches! They hanged a dozen. Apparently, Black Shuck can now be seen roaming the streets at night. He’s like a big black dog. Well, the ghost of a big black dog. Never seen him though. Not that I believe in it, but he must be quite the sight you know. Oh! There’s some Yarrow! We call it the death flower but it really isn’t. I mean, it actually has healing properties so who knows why it has this name. And you know the big oak by the church ? The one surrounded by iron, and is basically just a trunk now? They said it is protecting Camlot, and the town would fall ‘when the old Oak Tree shall tumble down’, but it’s still standing so far.” 

Arthur was torn between shouting at him to shut up, and listening to his nonsensical folklores forever. They arrived at the chips shop not long after the story of the ornately carved spoons given as a love token by young men to their sweethearts. Before Merlin could storm in the shop, Arthur exclaimed. 

“Alright Merlin. Enough.” 

The young man stopped. What Arthur had failed to see, were the tears pearling in Merlin's eyes. The blond realised that stopping his rambling would sign the end of the young man. But he had asked him to stop. Through the teardrops, the young man was still smiling, a weak and fragile smile. 

“If it’s all coming to an end Arthur, I am going to make the most of it.” He didn’t know what hurt him the most : the words, or the conviction with which he had said them. But he truly believed it. If Cendred were to come here, anything could happen but it would never change the outcome. It was over. He never thought he would be okay with it, but now that the hypothesis of Cendred coming had become real, he felt strangely relieved. He was not afraid of Death anymore. He had almost six years in his new life, which had been more than he ever expected. The Crown was thriving, he had met amazing peoples. He hoped Gwaine would never change. He hoped Percy would seek life outside of his work. He hoped Gwen would find the man she kept dreaming about. He hoped Gaius would one day finish his memoir about Camlot and get it published. He hoped Elyan would finally get to hire the nurse he so needed. He hoped Leon and Lance would make their career a great one. He hoped Morgana would finally open the museum she always talked about. He hoped Arthur would not forget him. He should have hated him for ruining everything, but he could only see his Prince in a shining armour, saving him from his life, even if that mean he would have to loose it. It would not be a happy ending, but it would be closure. In a coffin, no need to look over you shoulder. Peace at last. 

“But it’s not gonna be the end. I’m taking you and Morgana out of town. We are leaving tonight.” Arthur’s voice was dry. He could not even consider the possibly to stay in Camlot, it was madness. The whole city had already done so much for them regarding Valiant, so they owed them their peace and tranquility such a town should bring them. He hoped Morgana would be easier to convince, and if he had to force Merlin to leave, then he would do so. 

“You don’t get to choose for me Arthur.” Merlin exclaimed, even if no anger transpired in his word. He just sounded defeated. He was now slightly shaking, aware of the cold October brought upon the land. He apologised to the former DI, and walked away, his hands buried in his pockets. The blond stared down the street, as the young man figure was disappearing. 

“Why the long face princess?” Arthur jumped out off his skin as a heavy hand tapped him on the shoulder. He snapped his head and ended up face to face with a clearly drunk Gwaine, and a less obviously drunk Percy. The giant passed them and entered the chippy without a word, clearly focused on the promised food. 

“It's nothing. Enjoy yourself ‘right.” The blond's words were mumbled, but as he placed his own hand on top of Gwaine, he realised just how bad of liar he was. The construction worker, half blinded by whisky, pointed a judgmental finger aty7 him. 

“I might not like the posh prats like you” Arthur smiled at the drunken statement “ but you are a good man mate. So whatever is happening, I’m there. And if not for you, always for Merlin eh?” he lazily winked, and held himself up with his hand still on Arthur's shoulder. The blond felt guilty to hear the other man’s word, as if Valiant's episode had been nothing, and he would do it all over again. But he could see the state of the two men, drunk and barely standing in early afternoon, he could see the slight change in Gwaine’s smile, and he realised that Percy had been ever more quiet than usual. Before Arthur could reply, Percy emerged from the shop, holding two portions of cheesy chips, which made Gwaine straighten and lick his lips. Arthur took that opportunity to walk away, even if it looked more like if he was escaping. 

He just wanted to run after Merlin, but his feet seemed to disagree, and he found himself strolling through the town, mindlessly. Without realising, he had made his way to the Crown. He paced by the entrance for a while, before being bought back to reality as a customer left the pub. That was it then, if he needed someone to help him, it had to be Gaius. The old historian had proven himself as a great advisor in the last days, and he would hopefully be the one who could change Merlin's mind. He pushed the wooden door and sat at the bar, and the familiarity of the Crown strangely calmed him down a bit. He thought about Merlin ‘s witches story and smiled a little. 

“Hello my boy.” He did not see Gaius behind the bar at first and apologised to him for being lost in thoughts. The old man raised an eyebrow and silently placed a cup of tea and one of the last croissants in front of Arthur. He thanked him and held the warm cup in his hands, welcoming the almost burning feeling invading his slightly frozen fingers. He blew on the hot beverage, his eyes locked in the beige coloured liquid. 

“Do you wish to talk?” Arthur's heart ached at the soft tone of the old man. He imagined that this was what a father was meant to be, willing to listen no matter what, making sure he would eat something, and no matter what he would say, he would not be judged. In the past, he had resented Uther for not being anything close to a father, but as the year passed, he became more detached than bitter. He had wonder what he would have become if he did have a mother and a loving father when he grew up, but he did not dwell on those thoughts for very long, convincing himself that if his mom could see the man he had become, she would be proud.   
“I’d like to talk yeah.” It was weird for him to admit such a thing. He was always the type to keep everything for himself. Not that he saw opening up as a weakness, but he always considered that his états d'âme were his burden, and were not meant to be shared. 

Gaius made himself a green tea, and walked out of the bar to sit next to Arthur. It was now past one, and Sundays lunch were quieter than the week day. Only two old ladies were still sitting in the back, enjoying a cuppa and reading the newspapers. 

“So tell me, what’s on your mind?” 

“I just received a call from Leon.” He inhaled deeply before he carried on. “Mordred told them that Cendred would arrive in Camlot tomorrow, to take care of the situation himself.” Gaius only gave him a comprehensive nod. “It seems Mordred was not the one who ratted us out though...so who knows who we can trust ? It’s just...from what I gathered, Cendred is not the kind to get his hands dirty... but Merlin refuses to leave ! He is... I don’t know Gaius...” He ran his hand through his hair, struggling to make sense out of his own thoughts. He did not really get why Merlin did not want to leave, and he couldn’t let it happen anyway. 

“You truly care for him.” It was not a question. Gaius was harbouring a soft smile, glad to know that Merlin was being looked after. He had started to consider the young man as the son he never had. Merlin was always joyfully listening to his tales and legends, always made sure his favourite spot at the Crown was available for him and Gaius always made sure the boy was well fed, as it seems he too often forgot to eat whilst he was working – which was everyday. 

“I just want him to be safe... and I don’t think Camlot is safe anymore.” He was sure of that much. 

Gaius nodded, understanding Arthur’s point of view. He also wished Merlin would be somewhere safer, but if Merlin’s past proved something, is that he would not leave without a fight. The old man was still gauging the blond, feeling that they were more to the story than he would dare ask, but the years had taught him to be patient. Some things were harder to say than others. Arthur finished his tea, twisting the tea bag label between his fingers. 

“Did you know Morgana was once pregnant?” Gaius did not react at the question, and seemed weighted down by the words. 

“Yes. Years later. I met a man, Alator, and he told me everything. When I identified the pendant, he was overfilled with joy. He always thought that the piece of jewelry was important, but he never knew about the whole story. When Morgana left, I promised him I would still look after her, so he could focus on keeping an eye on the child. I never spoke of the matter with Morgana. She always thought the baby died in birth, and for her own mental health, I deemed it better to keep it that way.” The old man talked in a broken voice. He had wondered for years if he should have told her she was a mother, but the more the time had passed, the less it seemed relevant. She was finally recovering and he wanted to protect her, even if that meant lying to her. 

“It's Mordred.” Arthur voice was weirdly empty as he said it. Could he believe the young policeman he always had a soft spot for, was his nephew ? He could yes. It seems nothing would ever surprise him anymore, as if he had given up on even having a reaction, as it was just losing time. 

Gaius turned back to him, clearly unaware of the identity of the child up until now. Putting a name on a notion such as a child was too painful to even process. He realised that this kid had had a life, had his first steps, his first laugh, his first cry, his first word and Morgana was never there or even aware it was happening. With years, he had learn not to drown in regrets, but it was guilt digging wrinkles on his old face. 

As their conversation died, Merlin walked in the pub, Morgana in his step. If Arthur always thought he was looking like a young boy, he got faced with reality as Merlin was standing there, with the stature of a determined man. Morgana, who was back in one of her beautiful dress, her perfect make up and her nails sharper than ever, looked like she was ready to fight for her life – and she was going to win. They both walked to the bar counter, but Merlin did not stop, and passed behind the bar. He grabbed a tea towel and started to polish some glasses, glancing over some paperwork left by the till. He put away the dried wine glass, and grabbed a pen hanging there. He squinted his eyes for a split second, before seizing his glasses and nodding in contentment. As he was going over the paperwork, the tip of his tongue was being tortured between his lips, and his brows were down in frown. It finally looked like the paperwork made sense, and his expression softened as he happily ticked the invoices. Suddenly aware of the three faces looking at him in silence, he snatched off his glasses, and leaned backwards, hands on the coffee machine counter. 

“What?” he sounded annoyed, as if they dared messing up his routine for nothing. Morgana seemed to be the only one understanding, probably as they had have a lengthy discussion at the mansion. She could not change his mind either, so she doubted anyone could. As no one answered, Merlin locked his eyes into Arthur's, almost as a challenge. 

“Merlin, we are leaving. Tonight.”

“No we are not.” 

Arthur could not hide his worry anymore. It could not end like this. 

“Yes, we are.” He felt childish, and he knew already that Merlin would be equally stubborn.

“We should really leave.” Morgana's voice was as sharp as the knife, tainted with a threatening undertone that Arthur's was lacking. Merlin planted his bright blue orbs in hers, cold as ever.

“Feel free to leave Morgana. But I won't.” Merlin sounded so stern and cold, and it did not suit him at all. Arthur sighed and shared a apologetic look with Morgana. He did not know why Merlin reacted like that, he just couldn’t comprehend what could possibly go through his mind. He was still standing behind the bar, his arms now crossed, scanning the three of them. Gaius never talked, as his own opinion was not set : he did not know what the best solution was, and he even wondered if there was one. 

“But why Merlin? We could leave, find a cottage, you could change your name again, open a new pub. We could do that.” Arthur was almost begging at that point, pleading him to just come with him, far away from all this madness. 

“And I got money” Morgana continued “ We would never have to worry. They are plenty villages for us to find the perfect one, and put the past behind us.” Even if her voice was more pragmatic than Arthur's, it was still shadowed by eagerness, the hope she would convince him. 

“No.” He never looked away from them. Their faces looked like he just had been condemned to death, and maybe he was, but he just wish they would understand his side. At that moment, Gaius look straight at him, as if he could have heard his thoughts. He glanced at Arthur and Morgana before turning back to Merlin. He understood now. 

Arthur and Morgana were defeated. She finally sat at the bar, surrendering herself. Merlin nodded, and carried on with his polishing, as if he had never left the Crown, as if this last week never happened. Each glass was put back on the shelf slightly to strongly, the cutlery was thrown back in their box in a cacophony, and each of Merlin's step echoed in the Crown as a reminder of his decision. He looked on edge, and they were pretty sure that a simple fly could set him off. And the fly came when Arthur sighed. Merlin threw the towel in a ball on the bar, and dangerously leaned towards them. He judged the two Pendragons for a while, his jaw clenched. 

“You can both leave now if you want, but all I ever done was never for me, but for the kids. If you believe just one second that I’m gonna run away now, then none of you know me. Tomorrow, I’ll stop Cendred, or I will die trying.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, more plot twists !! Will it ever stop?! 
> 
> Chapter 15 is done ( for quite a while I have to admit, but as the 16th [and last] chapter is taking me so long to write, I will upload the next chapter in at the end of the week.) 
> 
> I also know that this is not a fic you can easily binge read, so I'll allow myself the extra time to wrap it up, and give this fic the end it deserves. 
> 
> Love you all <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter. Nothing is too graphic, but the whole thing can be upsetting. 
> 
> Enjoy !

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Arthur and Morgana looked at each other, guilt painting deep wrinkles on their tired faces. Was it wrong to want to protect one man, and leave hundreds of children behind? Is allowing one man to sacrifice himself for a greater good even a possibility? Deep in thoughts, the former DI tried to convince himself that the question was not even an option. The well being of children comes before the life of one man. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair and sighed, not able to meet Merlin's eyes. 

Satisfied, the pub owner went back to his duties. The purr of the dishwasher and the occasional ice dropping in the machine were the only things breaking the silence. Arthur was frenetically tapping on his mobile phone now, while Morgana sat there, like a marble statue, frozen in time. 

Gaius, wrinkled on the bar stool, was harbouring the face of a grieving man. The face of someone who had said farewell to so many people that no tears could ever run down his cheeks again, all the while the pit of loneliness in his chest kept growing bigger, until the day it would swallow him altogether ; his final farewell to himself. 

Leon, Lance, Mordred and Alator had spent hours in the park. Going over everything, again and again. They had talked about the portfolio, the forever lost CD-Rom, and ultimately, Valiant’s death. They finally reached a safety plan they deemed good enough to get the guys in safety, away from Camlot. It was not a perfect plan, not at all, but hopefully, it would allow them more time to find a better alternative. As they were reviewing the last part, which consisted of dropping Arthur the key to Alator’s cottage, situated by the South cost, without raising suspicion, Leon’s phone vibrated. As he read the text, his expression became more and more defeated.

“They are not leaving Camelot. Merlin won’t change his mind.” 

A collective sigh welcomed Leon's words. None of them realised Lance was now frowning, before nodding to himself, seemingly agreeing with his own mind. The archivist cleared his throat. 

  
“I guess there’s nothing else we can do from where we are. This will go down in Camelot.”. His voice was solemn, almost challenging. The three men silently agreed. In a synchronised thought, they all stood up. Alator left, visibly shaken and troubled. Leon placed his hand on Lance's shoulder, and shook Mordred's hand goodbye. 

“I’ll go home and get drunk. Seems like the only thing to do.” The police man said, leaving. As much as he tried to not let transpire his worries through his voice, his expression said it all. 

Lance stared at Mordred, emptily.

“Thank you for your help. Even if it seems nothing can be done now. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” The archivist finally said, burying his hands down his pocket. Mordred let out a faint groan as an answer, and started to walk in the opposite direction. As his body was disappearing behind the London traffic, Lance grabbed his phone and dialed Gwen, his only direct contact in Camelot, apart from Arthur. But as far as he was concerned, Arthur would not share his concerns, not after finding out that Mordred was family. With long strides, his phone stuck to his ear, he followed his colleague, mumbling under his breath for Gwen to just pick up already. 

Gwen, curled up on her sofa and nursing a cup of tea, was reading or rather was attempting to read a book. She could not tell you what the story was, as her thoughts were taking over the written words. She liked to think of herself as an optimist, but down in a her guts, something felt wrong. Her eyes kept leaving the inked pages to fly towards the clock, on and on, as if the black numbers would give her the answer to the questions she wasn’t even sure she had. She didn’t react when her phone ranged, almost surprised it didn’t happen way earlier. Without bothering to check the caller ID, she picked up. 

“Gwen speaking.” She was shocked at how empty she sounded, almost as if her voice was not belonging to her any more. 

“Thank God! It’s Lance. I think we have a problem.” At those words, she straighten back, dropped her feet and the book on the carpeted floor, and placed her cup back on the table. She didn’t have time to say a word, as Lance engaged in an incomprehensible babbling. 

“Mordred, who’s Morgana son, is the mole. But he isn’t. Well, I still believe he his.” He was panting, his voice vibrating along every step he took. “Leon and I fucked up Gwen. Cenred is coming. To Camelot. Tomorrow. Not just for Merlin I think. For all of you. I don’t know. I’m not sure. Mordred smiled when Arthur told us Merlin would not leave. He bloody smiled Gwen! I think he came to us just to know precisely where Merlin would be so Cenred can find him.” His word were punctuated by klaxons as he crossed the road without looking, eyes locked on Mordred. “I don’t trust him. Guys, you’re screwed. You are all screwed.” Gwen was already standing up, her coat on her back and her car keys jiggling in her hand.

“Where are you now Lance? Don’t do any thing stupid.” Her front door slammed as she stormed out.

“I'm following him. Something’s off. I can feel it.” He didn’t know if he was whispering or shouting. His mind was a blur and his didn’t dare to blink. 

“Lance. If you are right, it’s too dangerous to follow him. Just stop already. Please.” Her phone was now on loudspeaker, resting on the passenger sit. She turned on the engine, hands slightly shaking, and drove off. 

“Hold up. He stopped. What is he doing?” Lance was now thinking out loud, using his phone more for strength than anything else. He was just an archivist, he was not meant to be there. “He just entered a building. The...Albion? I think it’s a strip club? I don’t know.” His voice was now really low, often interrupted by his heavy breathing. 

She took a sharp turn, and started to see the ruins of the castle. She could not be bothered to park at the usual car park, and turned on her hazard light as she drove slowly through the old town streets. She passed a “ delivery only” road sign and turned on her right.   
“Lance. Don’t go in there. Listen to me!” Just then, she realised she was shouting. She stopped the car right in front of the Crown and glanced at the orange digital numbers by the wheel. Half past four. 

Lance gave a slight push on the metal door, which slightly opened. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he squeezed his body inside the club, focusing on the provenance on the men voices. His steps, slower and slower, dragged his body out of the dark corridor to end up in a massive room. Heavy light systems where hanging over different poles, and metal cages, empty, were reflecting the rare rays of sunshine coming through the thin windows on top of each wall. 

  
“Definitely a strip club. I see Mordred, with an other man. I think it's Cenred, I'm not sure... I see at least two other men standing in the back .” 

Gwen barged in the Crown, banging the door open. 

“Lance, get out. Right now!” Four faces turned to her. She dropped the phone on the counter, still on loud speaker. 

“Yes. It’s definitely Cenred.” Lance's voice echoed in the pub. Merlin dropped his cloth and ran to the front door to lock it. 

“Lance. I don’t care where you are, get away from Cenred. NOW!” Merlin shouted from the other side of the pub, his shaky hands struggling to turn the key. For fuck’s sake, he murmured under his breath. Lance did not even acknowledge Merlin presence, and continued. 

“They are talking about tomorrow...Mordred is ratting us out. Shit. Shit.”

“Get out. Please get out.” Tears were running down Merlin's red cheeks, as he leaned his back against the wooden door, wiping his face with his palms. “Please...Just leave...Please...” it was an almost inaudible beg, tainted with the ghost of his past. Arthur jumped out of his seat and pulled Merlin in his arm, rocking him slowly to calm him down. “He needs to leave Arthur.... He... Please...”. Merlin was a mess, each of his words strangled by a sob. 

“Cenred got your names guys. None of you are safe... for God’s sake, we should have shut up.” Lance kept hiding behind the corner of the wall, trying his best to understand the discussion. He felt stupid, to have believed just one second that Mordred would have helped them. And now here he was, watching his young colleague spitting out all the previously shared information. From Arthur being in the possession if the portfolio, Morgana helping Merlin, them having gotten rid of Valiant, to the certainty they would be in Camlot tomorrow, patiently waiting. Over the phone, he could faintly hear what seems to be Merlin crying, and Arthur's voice quite far away. He could make out what he believed to be Morgana and Gwen pleading him to leave. He guessed she had drove to the Crown during their exchange. But now, he barely focused on his phone call, as Mordred's voice reverberated through the empty club. 

“We can start to put an end to this today Cenred.” Lance caught a glimpse of a new born smirk on Cenred’s lips, and his blood froze in place. Mordred turned on his heels, and gestured towards the corridor wall. “Come out now Lance, don’t be shy.” 

The voice was loud enough for all of them to hear it over the phone. Gwen and Morgana’s voices were lost in a mess of “run"; “leave" and “please", as Merlin’s body collapsed to the floor. His forehead was resting on his knees, as his hands were covering his ears, fingers tangled in his dark hair and his knuckle whitened. As all of them were hanging on the edge, hope still burning through their veins. Merlin was already too far gone, lost in his grief and despair. 

“You should have known better than to follow me.” Mordred's voice was getting louder and his steps could be heard tapping slowing. Lance wished he could have run. They always blame people for not running away, for patiently waiting to get caught, but truth being, his feet were not responding. He could not move, he could not blink. He knew in that moment that he hadn’t be brave, but reckless. Mordred seized him by the collar and dragged him in front of the Boss. No tears, no tremble. He got thrown on the floor and fell hard on his knees. No cry of pain, no effort to stand up. Cenred kneeled before him and grabbed his cellphone and grinned at the ongoing call. 

“Hello there. I hope Emrys is around to hear this.” Merlin only cried louder. Arthur looked at Morgana, then Gwen, then Gaius, repeatedly. His eyes were shouting words he could not pronounce. _What is going on._

One gun shot. 

One body dropping cold on the floor. 

One laugh.

Gwen stared blankly at her phone, barely seeing through her wet eyes that the called had ended. Morgana was tapping her red nails on the wooden bar, her eyes avoiding everybody as she swallowed a sob. Gaius was now looking a hundred years old, the blue of his ancient eyes being drowned in an ocean. Arthur was openly laying on the floor, eyes closed, Merlin shaking against him. His nose was buried in the nest of black hair, focusing on the smoky and coffee fragrance emanating from it. He didn’t realise he had started to hum, slowly. The church ranged six times. 

Cenred kicked Lance's body, which rolled on its back. A scarlet halo was appearing around him, as a veil was falling before his eyes. With an annoyed hand gestured, the Boss ordered one if his men, standing by the bar, to clean this mess. Mordred, his face painted with wet ruby pearls, grabbed Cenred’s hands before kissing him chastely.   
“You'll see, it will all be over soon.” The young man finally said, breaking the embrace. Cenred rubbed his thumb on the blood stained cheek, smearing it a bit, and cupped Mordred's jaw. As their lips met once again, the young man could feel his lover smile, ever so slightly. 

“It will be over sooner that you think Mordred. We are leaving now.” Mordred smiled and shook his head. They stumbled to the lift, not able to separate their bodies. Their tongues were lost in a ballet of their own. One of them thought about pressing the lift button, and they emerged in the entrance of the penthouse. Cendred threw Mordred onto the floor, grinning like a devil, as he took off his suit jacket. They would not leave now, but fifteen minutes later. 

It was something to help in the cover up of a murder, it was an other to witness the murder of someone over the phone. Morgana had gone behind the bar and poured herself two fingers of Martini. Gwen had asked for a chamomile tea. Gaius had simply shook his head negatively. Arthur and Merlin were out of reach, lost in their own pain. It’s funny how when you don’t pay attention, time flies in the blink of an eye. 

Despite the Crown being frozen in time, the sun set over the Castle’s towers. Dew appeared on the car windshields. Gwen hazard lights were blinking in the whole street, droplets of water creating a kaleidoscope on the metallic street lamps. If you were attentive enough, you might just have heard two foxes running away by the Old Oak. It was a perfect evening for Black Shuck to come out. The church sang seven times.

“Arthur...” Morgana paused. She dreaded it but someone had to do it. “We need to tell Leon.”. The only answer she got, was to see Arthur holding Merlin even tighter. She was sure she could hear him losing himself over aborted apologies. 

Only Gaius reacted when someone knocked two times on the front door. Like a ghost, he strolled towards it and bent to retrieve the key Merlin had left falling to the floor. He unlocked it slightly, only enough to let his face through. With a relieved yet heavy sigh, he let the two men in, followed by the sweet smell of alcohol. 

“Guys, why the long faces eh? Check that out!” as he spoke, Gwaine brandished in victory his phone, opened on the local newspaper website page. Still slightly intoxicated, he read: 

_An other victim of Mercia's road has been discovered later this morning. A lorry driver had seen what seemed to be the boot of a car sticking from the bushes. It is believed the man had lost control of the vehicle as he approached the turn, screeching marks confirming the theory. How many more deaths on our roads before the council steps up?_

“yada yada yada...” finished Gwaine. “We did it guys, we bloody did it ! And with a bit of luck, we might even make the roads around here safer ! Two stones with one bird eh?... hold on.”

“Two birds with one stone.” Percy joined it, fondly smiling. 

“That’s the one!” Gwaine exclaimed, clicking his fingers. In his current state, he felt like he was missing something. As he tried to walk to the bar, he tripped over Arthur's leg and ended up face down on the wooden floor. He definitely felt like he was missing something when no one laughed at his misery, him who always was the butt of the joke. Now sitting, facing Merlin and Arthur, his eyes widen.

With some difficulties, he helped himself up using one of the bar stool, and rearranged his hair behind his ear. His gaze went from the two men interlaced on the floor, to Morgana, nose deep in her martini, passing by Gwen who seemed to have her eyes glued on the black screen of her phone. Desperately, he looked over at Percy, agitating his hand in confusion, at which the gentle giant just raised two equally confused eyebrows. 

“Lance...” Morgana started, her voice as cold as ice. “Lance has been executed. By Cenred. Over the phone. We heard it all.” She spokes as if she was enumerating facts, like a machine. 

“How can you so blatantly say that!” Gwen's voice was the total opposite of Morgana's. Warm, shaking and so ...humanly painful. 

“My dear, it’s called dignity.” And she finished her martini in one gulp, showing no sign of emotion but her slightly broken nails she had abused on the bar. 

Gwaine gave up and let his body fell on the floor again. He pointed to Merlin and Arthur, defeated. 

“Not alright eh?”. His empty chuckle was even more worrying than when he got quiet. Still standing by the door, Percy placed a comforting hand on Gaius shoulders. 

“Alright guys, let’s get the fuck out.” Gwaine erupted, and with a strength no one knew he still had, he jumped to his feet. “We take our van and blondie's Ford, we stop at everybody’s houses, we get some clothes, and whatever...like bread or something, and we get the fuck out. I heard Cornwall was beautiful this time of the year!” he clapped his hands, trying to get a reaction from any body. Only a small raspy voice rose. 

“I’m not leaving.” Merlin's eyes were now open, locked into Gwaine's. His face was shadowed by Arthur’s body, and yet his eyes were two piercing blue knifes. 

“Tough luck buddy, cause we are.” Gwaine argued, slowly dropping his smile and enthusiasm. 

“No. I am not.” Merlin instinctively held Arthur even closer if that was even possible. 

“Well you are Merlin! ‘Cause there’s no fucking way I'm get rid off your dead body!” Gwaine was now properly shouting. Gwen dropped her head slightly forward, letting her long brown curls falling in front of her, as Morgana was now nervously tapping the side of her empty glass. Percy took a deep inhale, shaken by Gwaine's voice. In a decade, he had never heard the man shout, not once. And the look he was now harbouring was scaring him. 

Merlin seemed to have snapped out of his apathetic state, and jumped up to Gwaine's throat in two long strides. 

“Then get the fuck out of here.” Merlin's spoke slowly, which only made him more threatening. Every once of good old sweet Hunithson had been turned to ashes, as Emrys emerged from deep inside. 

“ I get out of here with you or not at all.” Gwaine's tone was matching Merlin's. Their eyes were engaged in a staring battle. Morgana's nails punctuating every second passing. His back still turned to the bar, the construction worker slammed his hand on the counter, and without a word, Morgana handed him a bottle of rum. He drank a large quantity, still maintaining the eye contact. 

Minutes passed. The two men were breathing at a counter tempo, composing a dominant symphony. Morgana kept going _tick tick tick._ Gwen’s hair was waving slowly at each new sob. Arthur laid back on his back, arm crossed above his face. Percival was still standing by the entrance, eyes locked on his shoes. Gaius, hands held together in front of him, looked at a murder of crows flying by the small window, a cynical smirk on his thin lips. 

Gwaine broke into a smile, and gently pushed Merlin in the shoulder. 

“Let’s go get them bad guys mmh?” And he walked away as everybody let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. Gwaine shook his head. _Fuck me._

Arthur stood up, his clothes all wrinkled and his hair spiking up from everywhere. To his surprise, and quite out of the blue, Merlin jumped at his neck and kissed him deeply. Not a desperate kiss, not a comforting one either. Almost passionate. The former DI reciprocated the gesture, not caring for the pair of eyes glued on them. Merlin was the first to break it off, and he leaned towards the blond's ear. 

“If I were to die tomorrow, I know I’ll die being loved.” Arthur closed his eyes and pulled him closer. It was his way of saying yes. He knew his voice would be shaky but he spoke nonetheless. 

“If I were to die tomorrow, would I know I died being loved?” he felt the man against him tremble. Two thumbs cleared away his tears and soft lips find his soon after. It was not a desperate kiss, not a comforting one and definitely not a passionate one anymore. It was a farewell kiss. 

One shattered glass. 

One gasp. 

One ‘ _fuck_ '

One defeated raised eyebrow. 

One step back. 

One door blasted open. 

Eight times, the church chimed. 

Lips still together, two pairs of shoulders dropped, caught up by one's past. 

“ _Emrys_.” 

Black Shuck could be heard howling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one before last chapter! It is quite a short chapter compared to some others, but the last one will definitly make up for it ! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading up til now, as I know it's an emotional journey ! 
> 
> The final chapter should be up in the next few days. It is done, I just need to proof read it and finalise some details.
> 
> I feel way too emotional knowing the end is coming... 
> 
> I would love to hear your theories about what is coming next ! 
> 
> Thank you all <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The last chapter. If you've read up until now, I hope you'll enjoy it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

_“Merlin Emrys is to appear before the Crown Court this Tuesday for the alleged murder of Arthur Pendragon, Morgana LeFay, Gwaine Greene and Cenred Fyrien, four years after the now infamous Camlot Massacre. The trial will be held over the next two weeks. As requested by Annis Gorlois ( Mr Emrys' defense advocate), the trial will be held with no jury, following concerns for the safety of the public. We believe it to be important to remind the public that Mr Emrys is innocent until proven guilty. The witnesses' names are yet to be disclosed to the press.”_

Gaius folded the newspaper and threw it back on the table. He glanced at the clock above the reception desk of the hotel, before dropping his gaze back to the floor. His suit was worn out, and his tie was badly done. He had been battling Parkinson’s for two years now, and the stress of the upcoming trial only worsened his symptoms. He tried as much as he could to contain the tremors in his hands, but to no avail. His eyes kept trailing off on the newspaper, where a picture of the Crown was displayed, a forensic tent hiding the wooden door. On the top left corner, Merlin could be seen forced in a police car, a blanket loosely thrown over him. 

“Hey...” Gaius slightly jumped as Percival sat down on the chair next to him. The old man gave him a sad smile, before glancing at the clock again. The construction worker had driven all the way to London early in the morning. They were still expecting Gwen, who was staying in the hotel down the road. 

Over the last four years, they had all drifted apart. Gaius had forever closed the Crown, and it was still unused to this day. He had taken him more than six months to have the strength to call specialised cleaners to wash off the blood, and ever since, no one had entered the pub. Since that day, he had stayed at home, working on Camlot's memoirs. He had obsessively compiled every story, every legends, every myths about the town, and had tried to give back its former glory to the castle. He finally had self published the book about a year ago. The second page simply read : “ To the young man who loved this town more than he loved himself.”. He liked to imagine that Merlin was still dreaming about dragons and knights, alone and abandoned in his cell. 

Percival had kept his business running for two more months, time to finish the restoration work he and Gwaine had started. But once it was done, he had gotten rid of the van, and tools. He had been indulging himself in alcohol for the years that followed, and was barely seen in the town centre anymore. He had emptied Gwaine's flat two weeks after his death, and only kept the half full packet of cigarettes, his lighter and his untouched bottle of rum. I’m keeping it for a special day, Gwaine used to say. And now it was on Percy's bedside table, piling up dust. At first, he had tried to keep contact with Gaius, and Gwen, but the pain was too great, and he withdrew himself in his cottage, living each day like a chore, drunk by noon and passed out by five. Somedays, he was ashamed, knowing that Gwaine would disproved his behaviour, other days, he was raising his glass to his late friend, without a care in the world. He was still working as a gardener for the elderly, time to time, just enough to buy his bottles and forget. Up until the day he received his convocation to witness, he hadn’t realised it had been four years. Deep inside, he felt guilty, to not have been there for the ones he considered to be his friends, or for Merlin. He had thought, once or twice, to go and visit him but had always buried the idea. And then it was too late. What could he say after so much time and not even a letter? 

“Sorry I’m late.” Gwen apologised as she was crossing the hotel lobby. She pulled Percy in a tight hug before helping Gaius to stand up by offering him her arm. “Leon is waiting for us outside.”. She was the only who had moved out of Camlot. Elyan and her had moved down to Cornwall, where her brother had found a position in a retirement house. She had tried for a while to keep her job, but she was struggling to keep up her social work when herself was still grieving. Instead, Elyan had helped her to set up a small bakery on the sea front, and she had been overworking herself willingly ever since. Every week, she was trying new recipes, but no matter what, her raspberry and white chocolate cupcakes were always available. She was always proud to say they were the favourites of one of her best friend anytime a customer was complimenting her. And every once in a while, she would make dark chocolate cookies shaped as a crown, as her way to say she was not forgetting him. She had tried to go and visit him at the Woodworm Prison, but he had been clear on the subject : he did not want people to visit him. She never insisted. 

“Hey mate!” Leon gave a quick hug to Percy. They had been talking over the phone quite regularly, mostly exchanging stories. Leon loved to talk about how he and Arthur used to play football in the park, while Percy was fondly complaining about Gwaine inability to ever shut up. It had been quite comforting to them, talking about their deceased friends to someone who did not really knew them, taking off the burden they felt towards their entourage. Leon was still in contact with few colleagues, but he knew that bringing up Arthur or Lance was too painful for all of them. When he was talking with Percy, he could actually smile and laugh at the memories, and he really needed that. And when he had emptied Arthur’s loft flat, he was relieved to be able to share the experience. It had been weird, trying to find any relatives of Arthur, only to find out that he actual had no one. He had felt sad at the idea, and promised himself to never forget him. Unfortunately, he had never had that sense of closure for Lance, who’s body was never found, and was still considered a missing person. But as he was an adult, a real investigation had never been conducted. He had given the name of the strip club they knew he had been murdered at, but nothing had ever come out of it. To that day, no death certificate had ever been issued, and they knew that his name would not be brought up during the trial. 

He had been offered the DI position the Monday following the massacre, and had politely declined the offer. Instead, he had given his notice, and was now working as a security agent at the London Museum. It was not his dream career, but he remembered that Morgana had always loved Art, and it was his tribute to her. His life goal was simply to remember, forever loyal to them, in life or death. He had learned not long ago that he had been the only one to see Merlin. The man had asked especially for him, to Leon’s surprised. I can not ever see them again, not after I ruined their life. Not after I ruined your life. It’s all my fault. Tell them I’m sorry. It was all what was said. Nothing more, nothing less. Gwen had cried, Percival had drunk, Gaius had locked himself in his house. 

The group engaged in the underground. It was surreal to see the people around going about their day as if the fate of a man was not going to be decided in the next days. They knew they would see Merlin today, and they knew he would be a different man. After an half an hour quiet ride, they stood in front of the Crown court. 

“I can’t do this.” Gwen said, a voice almost breaking. It was not like putting salt in a wound, it was worse. They knew the pictures would be displayed, the story told again and again, their lives scrutinised, and even if they were not on the stand, they knew they would also be implicitly judged.   
Percival ran his hand down her back and gave her a compassionate nod. They walked up the front stairs and pushed the glass door, only to be met with a deadly silence, and the characteristic smell that administration buildings seemed to share. One by one, they passed the security gate. Percy held Gwaine’s lighter tightly before dropping it on the grey plastic tray. 

Leon pointed to the first floor and they all followed him. They grabbed a sit at one of the high table by the court room's doors. 

“What now?” Percival asked, the lighter still glued to his hand. 

“Well, today, the judge will conduct an assessment of the facts, the time line, the evidences. By the afternoon, we should have moved on to life of the victims, their connections...anything that would explain what led them to be at the Crown that night. Depending on what the defence advocate and the prosecutor have to say, it might be extended to tomorrow morning.” Leon stated with a detached tone. This was no more than an other trial, he kept telling himself, nothing more. The protagonists didn’t matter, the story would never change. He knew Merlin's case was solid, enough to get him acquitted and the charges dismissed. 

“Hi! Good morning.” A woman approached them, her pale ginger hair pulled in a perfect ponytail and her arms filled with stacks of papers, colourful post-its sticking out here and there. “I am Annis Gorlois, Mr Emrys defendant.”   
They all shook her hand. Leon had played all his connections in London to get her, her reputation being undeniable: she was a lioness in the court room, and she had proven that already : convincing the prosecution to apply for non jury trial. Now, they could only hope that the judge would see farther than the dramatic event, and understand the whole ordeal. They knew that a jury, especially following the media coverage which painted Merlin as a cold blooded killer, would not have been inclined to judge the facts and the evidences. They would just have convicted him, walking in the first day with their mind already set.

“Is there any chance he would walk out of here a free man?” Gaius asked. With his illness and his advanced age, he knew that if Merlin were to be sentenced to jail, he would never see the day of his release. 

“I like to believe the odds are on our side. But let’s not feed ourselves with hopes just yet.” The defence attorney replied. There were clear signs of exhaustion emanating from her and they could only guess that she had worked days and nights on this case. “ You are all aware that this is an intricate case and we have a lot to go through. My job is to get the truth out there, but I am not in charge of the verdict. But if I were, Mr Emrys would have long been released.” She glanced at the door and at her watch. “It’s time.” 

Heavyhearted, they all entered the room and sat on the wooden benches. Mrs Gorlois took her place at the front and placed her folders in front of her. A young woman approached her, and they shook hands, more out of politeness than anything. 

“It's Sefa Ruadan, she is the one we are up against. Do not be fooled by the appearances, she has an impressive curriculum.” Leon whispered, leaning towards the rest of the group. They all nodded in response, even more tensed than before. 

The back door opened, and two security agents appeared, Merlin standing between them. He looked dishevelled, his hair now longer, curling into a mess. His jaw was hidden under a dark stubble, and yet, under the jungle his hairs were creating on his face, two blue eyes were still standing out. They were darker, older than the body hosting them. He stared at Annis, almost apologeticly, before trailing down to his friends. His eyes were as dried as theirs were wet. Gwen was the first to break away, lost in her handbag in the search for tissues. Percival gave him a sad smile, and cleared his throat before fixing his gaze on Gaius. The old man was fighting his tremors, but loosing the battle. He placed his hand on Gaius', while the old man swallowed a sob. Leon gave Merlin a nod, filled with hope and determination. The agents walked Merlin into his seat, at the back of the room. Handcuffs were taken off his wrist, glass walls separating from the real world, he felt like an animal in a morbid zoo. Soon enough, all eyes moved towards the stand, as a blond appeared, her red robe flowing with every step. She sat down and looked at a man, signalling she was ready.

“All rise" the bailiff’s voice echoed in the room. “The Crown Court is now in session. Judge Morgause presiding. Please be seated.” 

And as a whole, the room sat again, shifting the atmosphere around. Not a sound could be heard but each other's heart beating out of their chest. 

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Calling the case of the prosecution against Mr Merlin Emrys. Are both sides ready?” 

“Ready for the Crown, your Honor.” Declared Sefa. 

“Ready for the Defendant, your Honor” followed Annis. 

Gwen leaned towards Leon and whispered. “How can Miss Ruadan stand here, pretending to represent Arthur, Gwaine and Morgana while trying to get Merlin convicted? Did she even looked at the case ? Unbelievable.” 

“I know.” It was all that he could respond. Because he knew what went down, but he also was aware of how it was looking for a third party. He knew Merlin looked guilty, and he was, in fact, guilty. He had pulled the trigger on Cenred. He had bludgeoned the inert body, he had squeezed his last breath out of him. And he had kept beating up the dead body. It took both Percival and Mordred to get him off and restrain him, and both men ended up bruised. Merlin had lost all control, but he had never once screamed. Only tears of rage were rolling down his face, his breathing was erratic, his lips trembling, but not a single scream or cry. Just pure silent rage, and it had been the most frightening thing any of them had ever seen.   
Sefa stood up, and placed some documents in front of her. 

“Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen, the Defendant has been charged with the crime of second degree murder, voluntary manslaughter and torture and acts of barbarism. The evidence will prove that the bodies of Arthur Pendragon, Morgana LeFay, Gwaine Greene and Cenred Fyrien were found at the Crown on Sunday 16th of October, 2011. Mr Emrys was present on the scene, alongside Miss Gwen Thomas, Mr Percival DeGulis, Mr Gaius Borden and Mr Mordred MacMarbh. The defendant was arrested on the scene, his fingerprints were present on the murder weapon. The evidence l present will prove to you that the defendant is guilty as charged." Her voice was calm and cold. She sat down again, and glanced at her opponent. 

Annis stood up. The years of experience she had made her more present in the court room, and the people were more willing to listen to her than they were to Sefa. Her allure also seemed more mature, and she was harbouring a stern expression, ready to fight until her last breath. 

“Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen : under the law, my client is presumed innocent until proven guilty. During this trial, you will hear no real evidence against my client. You will come to know the truth: Mr Emrys happened to be present at the Crown Sunday evening, and was caught in the events against his will. The murder of Miss LeFay, Mr Pendragon and Mr Greene are not to be charged on my client. We are pleading for involuntary manslaughter in the case of Mr Fyrien, therefore my client is not guilty. Unless you consider defending yourself in a life or death situation an honest reason to condemn a man to life.” Annis stared at the judge for a few seconds before sitting down again. 

“I told you guys, she is good.” Murmured Leon. 

“The prosecution may call its first witness.” Morgause stated, in a weirdly bored tone. 

“She was the judge who prosecuted the CD Rom case twelve years ago I believe.” Gaius said, his voice shaking. “I knew I heard her name before. If I am right, this would only make it more complicated for us. She had totally dismissed the case the first time, I don’t believe she would now take it into consideration.” His words were met with sighs. If this woman was so willing to bury the ring theory, then Merlin's fate was already sealed. “We need a miracle.” Percy said, under his breath. 

“The Crown call the first Police Officer arriving at the scene.”   
The four of them suddenly straightened as Mordred was shown to the stand by the bailiff. He was now looking like a man, clearly hardened by the years that passed. His previous longish hair was now cut in a short fashion. He was in uniform, his hat propped between his elbow and his rib cage.   
“I thought witnesses would not be called until tomorrow.” Gwen almost shouted, visibly taken aback at the situation.   
“I don’t know, this is my first non jury trial.” Leon replied, clearly bothered by Mordred presence. 

The clerk made his way to Mordred's right side and placed a Bible in front of him which the witness politely declined the need. The clerk nodded and took it away, before turning back to him. 

“Please stand. Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth?”

“I promise that the testimony I shall give in the case before this court shall be truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” Mordred planted his gaze on Merlin. His words were cold, his all demeanour was arrogant, and for a split second, a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. 

“Please state your first and last name.” 

“ Mordred MacMarbh" He said, almost as a challenge. His eyes had now found Percival. He could see the giant man making the lighter dance between his fingers. He could see how his leg was bouncing, and how his jaw was clenched. But he had no remorse.   
Sefa stood up again, her arms resting on each side of her body.   
  
“Mordred, where do you work?” only then, he turned back to her, finally breaking eye contact with Percival. 

“Scotland Yard. Constable.” 

“Were you on duty on October 16th?” 

“No.” 

“Were you the first Police representative to arrive at the scene?” 

“Yes. Off duty.” 

“Was Mr Emrys present at your arrival?” 

“Yes.” 

“Were any of the victims still alive?” 

“No.” 

“Have you seen Mr Emrys carrying any firearm?”

“Yes.”

“Upon arrival, did you believe Mr Emrys was responsible for the four murders?” 

“Yes. He confessed.” 

A collective murmur could be heard in the room following Mordred's declaration. Leon and Gwen could not take their eyes off him, shocked by the nerve this man had to lie in front of the Court, without even letting transpire an ounce of fear. Percival was now looking over his shoulder, trying to see Merlin's reaction. But he was just there, sitting proud, his arms resting on his thighs while his eyes were locked on the police man. From all the people present today, Merlin seemed to be the only one who was not shocked by those words. 

But Percival knew. He knew too well that Merlin had not confessed. Every night, he still heard Cenred erupting in the pub. _Emrys_. Everytime he closed his eyes, he could see Merlin slowing breaking free from Arthur’s embrace. The former DI had shoved Merlin behind him and walked towards Cenred. Mordred was standing by the man, eyes locked on Morgana. He was disgusted by the view of her. And before Arthur could even walk two steps, Cenred pointed his firearm on him. He was not here to talk, just to finish the job. 

“Can you confirm that this man,” she gestured towards Merlin to avoid any misunderstandings, “ is the man you saw?” 

“Yes.” 

“Were you the one who called 999?”

“No.” 

“Do you remember who did?”

“I believe it was Mr Borden.” 

“Why were you not the one to call?” 

“I was restraining Mr Emrys.” 

“Thank you, I have no further questions.” Sefa dropped back into her seat, not without showing signs of pride in a early celebration of her victory. 

Morgause turned to Mrs Gorlois. 

“Does the Defense has any questions?” 

Annis grabbed few documents and raised. 

“Yes, your Honor.” She turned to Mordred. “You are working for Scotland Yard.” 

“Correct.” 

“And you were living in London at the time.”

“Correct.” 

“Were you to work at 7am the next day, Monday 17th, at Scotland Yard? Your Honor, folder B, page 24.” The judge could be seen turning pages, while Annis was holding a page at eye level for people to see. She then walked towards the witness stand and placed the sheet in front of Mordred. “Can you confirm this schedule is dated from the Monday 17th to Sunday 23rd, signed by your superior at the time?” 

“It is the correct schedule indeed.” 

“Then may I ask what were you doing in Camlot on Sunday evening, knowing you were to work early the next day?” 

“I was searching for a friend of mine who did not came back home. He said he was going to Camlot to visit the Castle, so I went searching for him, or any signs of him.” 

“ May we get the name?” 

“Valiant Mellor.” 

“If you were so concerned about him, why did you never notified the Police?” 

“He was an adult. Had not missed any shift. I was curious, not overly concerned.” 

“Did you ever find Valiant Mellor.?” 

“Objection, your Honor.” Sefa stood up and continued. “ the whereabouts of Mr Mellor is of no help in the case being held before the court.” Judge Morgause considered the young woman words for a few seconds, before dismissing the objection. She turned to the witness, and asked him to answer. 

“Yes. His car had been found alongside one of Mercia's road. He died in the crash.” 

“But the news of his passing were in the local newspaper hours before your arrival in Camlot. Just a quick search on the internet would have saved you the trip.” 

“I’m an optimist, I did not think about checking the local obituary.” He gave Annis a polite smile. She was well prepared, but so was he. But she didn’t seem taken aback at all, as she was expecting Mordred to have an answer for everything. After all, he had years to polish his stories. She could only hope that she dug enough to make his facade crack. The only thing that made everything trickier for her, is that as a constable, Mordred’s words were quick to pass for authority. 

“And what were you doing at the Crown?” 

“I was passing by and heard someone screaming. As a police officer, I felt it was my duty to check everything was in order.” He gave the room a sympathetic nod. 

Annis browsed through some paperwork, before offering the judge to turn to page 35. A collection of CCTVs pictures were laid on the paper, dated from two weeks prior to the events. She grabbed her own copy and placed it in front of Mordred, and pointed to the top right corner photography. 

“Do you recognise this man?” 

“Yes. It’s me.” 

The bailiff leaned towards the woman who was sitting at a desk on the far right of the judge. 

“For the record, can you state the name of the person on the photograph.” The bailiff simply asked. Mordred slightly rolled his eyes. 

“The man on the photograph from folder B, pages 35 and 36 is me, Constable Mordred MacMarbh.” The woman and the bailiff thanked him before gesturing for Annis to carry on. 

“And do you recognise this man?” she pointed to the silhouette who could be seen standing next to him. He glanced over the photographs and shrugged. 

“I do not.” Annis smiled, almost victorious. 

“This man is Cenred Fyrien, a man who, two weeks after this footage was recorded, would be murdered at the Crown, where you happened to also be present at the scene. Can you explain it?” 

Leon could not hide his edginess, sitting straighter on the bench. This was their best card to corner Mordred. Gwen was anxiously twisting her fingers as Percival was clenching his fists. From all of them, he was the one who wanted to see Mordred condemned the most. And if Mordred was to walk free, he knew he would track him down and finish the job himself. Just seeing this man again had overflowed him with rage. He knew is own life was pointless, getting wasted and taking care of random geraniums was not something he would miss, and if he had to end up behind bars for Mordred's murder, then so be it. Engraved in his memory was Mordred’s cold expression as he pointed his gun on Merlin. _Don’t do anything stupid_ , the young man had said, holding his hands in the air, proving he was unarmed. Arthur was still standing in front of him. _Mordred, it doesn’t have to end like this_ , the former DI had said, his voice showing no signs of panic. But Mordred couldn’t care less about their plea. Without even detaching his eyes from the two of them, he had moved his arm slightly to the left and pulled the trigger. A murder without a motive. A life taken just for sake of it. 

Percy winced on the bench, digging his fingers in his thighs, his eyes practically blank. 

Gwaine dropped to the floor, lifeless. The Crown was so quiet, and the gunshot was still echoing through the wall. Percy’s feet were glued in place, his drunken mind not putting the pieces together as he stared at the man he loved, his clothes soaking up the blood pouring from his chest. Gwaine’s eyes had found Percy's, and when the last breath of life had left his body, Percy had seen a faint smile before the expression became lifeless. His long hair was partially covering his face, and his limbs were twisted almost unnaturally, almost as if someone had cut the strings holding up a puppet. 

“I believe the footage is from a strip club where I was conducting an undercover investigation at the time. It was said to be linked to a drug dealing gang Scotland Yard was tracking few years ago. I met a lot of people, and I’m sorry for not remember everybody's name.” 

“There is not record of such an investigation, Mr MacMarbh.” 

Sefa stood up and gave a folder to the judge. “If I may, your Honor?” Judge Morgause gave a nod. “The investigation of Mr MacMarbh was kept unrecorded for the protection of the parties involved. However, here is a letter signed from DI Pendragon, authorising such investagation.” 

Leon looked at his friends, eyes widen. Arthur had never said anything about it, and Arthur trusted him with everything. He tried to meet Annis’ eyes, but she was cautiously going over the letter. 

“Your Honor, I would like to order an expertise on behalf of the Defense regarding the authenticity of the document.”

“You may. Does the Defence has any further question?” 

“No your Honor.” For the first time, Annis facade cracked as doubts were crawling under her skin. She was still convinced of the innocence of her client, yet it seemed that the credibility of the Crown’s witness was undeniable. 

In the back, Merlin’s gaze was focused on Mordred. He had knew that Cenred was a man practically untouchable but he had underestimated Mordred. Despite his young age, he had taken on Cenred legacy way too well, and Merlin could feel the last drops of hope escaping his grip. He tried to understand why, why would Mordred take over the network? He could not comprehend it. He liked to believe that no amount of power or money could ever make him join the business, but maybe power and money was exactly what Mordred was after. He did not feel enraged, just overly saddened for the young man. He wondered what Mordred was thinking when he was glancing at his reflection, or was he avoiding it? And yet, as hard as Merlin tried to detached himself from Mordred, he could not shake it off : he understood. He bloody understood and hated himself for it. He had seen how Mordred was looking at Cenred, he had seen the tears in his eyes as he was pulling Merlin away from Cenred dead body. He had seen the young man refusing to let go, embracing Cenred and kissing his cold lips. 

Merlin turned his gaze to Percival. He could not face the man. Guilt was not even near what he was feeling. Gwaine's death had been so useless, a gratuity of violence, a meaningless statement. He had seen Percy decompose at the view of Gwaine's body and as the years had passed, he had never found the strength to say something to him. Sorry just felt like a mockery of his feelings, so instead, he had refused any visits. And even if his friends were considering him to be innocent, he felt like a life time sentence was not even close to the punishment he deserved. Good people had died on his behalf, and they never once showed any regrets in their choices. Gwen had never blamed him, and he heard she was still baking in his name. He had received Gaius’ book, dedicated to him. And all he could do, was to tear every page away. Down in his cell, sitting on the damp floor, surrounded by torn papers, he had heard Uther's laugh. My son was your punishment. 

“The witness is excused. The court is adjourned. Please wait within the premises to be called back in.” The bailiff announced. Annis did not move from her seat, looking over her notes. Sefa shook Mordred’s hand and left the room. Gwen helped Gaius to stand up and they slowly walked to the waiting room.   
“Shall I get you some water?” she asked, her voice soft. The old man acquiesced with difficulties. Arriving at what could be considered a small cafeteria, she sat him down on a sofa before coming back with a bottle of water and a straw. She held the bottle so he could drink, and with her other hand, she squeezed his fingers in an attempt to control the tremors.   
They saw Percival crossing the room and the hall in long strides. Leon was trying to keep up with the pace. 

“I’ll kill him! Do you hear me? I’ll fucking kill him!” Leon arrived by his side and tried to call him down. 

“Those are not words you want to be shouting in a court mate.” Percy was short of breath and shaking. Leon tried to make him grab a seat but without any success. Two security guards were eyeing them from the entrance. 

“Let’s take a walk.” As soon as Leon placed his hand on Percy’s shoulder, the giant escaped his touch. 

“Just.... just leave me alone.” He took a deep breath and turned around, dragging his tall body to the toilets at the end of the hall. Leon stayed there and passed a hand through his hair, before rubbing his eyes. A woman cleared his throat behind him. 

“I know this is hard for all of you. But until the verdict is pronounced, there is still hope.” Leon turned to face Annis. 

“Is there? Do you really think so?” He let out a chuckle, almost mocking her. 

“Yes.” She gave him a motherly smile and rearranged the folders in her arms. He really wanted to believe her, but he could not. Their conversation was cut short by some commotion coming from down the hall. They turned on their heels to see Percival being restrained by three security agents, all visibly struggling. Mordred was standing in front of him, smirking. The police officer took to step towards the giant and brushed some imaginary dust from his shoulder, before laughing and walking away. Percy shook himself off the guards’ grip and stormed off upstairs. 

Gwen appeared on top of the stairs.   
“They are calling us back in.” 

Leon and Annis sighed, and made their way back to the court room. 

“Does the prosecution have any other witnesses?” 

“Yes your Honor. The Crown call the ballistic expert.” 

A scruffy man made his way to the stand. His blond hair was messy and his face marked with the years. He was clearly used to testify at trials, and almost looked bored as he swore to tell nothing but the truth. He adjusts his tie and stood tall in front of the court. 

“Please state your name.” The clerk said, and the men shared an amused look, as they both clearly went through this together a few times. 

“Tristan DuBois.” 

“You may be seated.” Declared the clerk. 

Sefa was tapping her pen on a pile of paper as she talked. 

“Where do you work?” 

“I am employed by the Greater London county. I have been a qualified ballistic expert for fifteen years.”

“Are you the one who examined the alleged murder weapon?” 

“Yes. The weapon is a MAC-10. It is not an uncommon firearm.” 

“Were the bullets retrieved in the walls and the bodies matching the weapon?” 

“The bullet from Mr Greene and Miss LeFay’s bodies are a perfect match indeed.” Tristan stared at Sefa, fully knowing this was not the answer she had expected. She glanced at the report before her, and offered to the judge to open folder A, page 14 to 23. 

“Your current statement does not match the report that have been given three years ago Mr DuBois. Why is that?” 

“The first report states that all the bullets could be linked to the same firearm, but further expertise is required indeed. On the subject, I am afraid I can’t elaborate, as this report is not mine.” Tristan turned to Annis, clearly amused. In few cases in the past, this had already happened. Everytime, Annis was dumbfounded to see some colleagues doing such a rookie mistake, and despite Sefa’s clear professional allure and attitude in court, she had lacked experience. 

“Mr DuBois, the report is clearly signed with your name. I doubt there is a lot of ballistic experts with your name.” Her tone was accusatory and slightly tainted with arrogance, which only made Annis and Tristan share an other cheeky look. 

“Indeed. There is only two : myself and Mrs Isolde DuBois, my wife.” 

Sefa looked back at the report and snapped her head towards the judge. Judge Morgause clearly disapproved of such amateurism. Trying to gain back some composure, Sefa turned back to the witness. 

“If you knew you did not write this report Mr DuBois, why did you present yourself in court today?” 

“I was in charge of the counter expertise ordered by Mrs Gorlois, and I simply assumed I would be testifying in her name today.”

“Your Honor, may I reschedule my witness, until we are able to contact Mrs DuBois to hear her take on the subject?” Sefa was clearly ashamed. She only hoped this would not play in favour of the defendant. Before the judge could give her answer, Annis stood up.

“Your Honor, I would like to make Miss Ruadan aware of the passing of Mrs DuBois.” 

The judge glance back from Annis to Sefa, visibly bothered by the events. She could not tolerate such mistake in a case as huge as Mr Emrys', especially considering the media coverage this trial was bond to get. 

“The witness is dismissed.” Sefa sat back, mentally bashing herself, while Annis turned to met Leon's eyes. She knew Sefa was making this mistake, and she gladly let it happened. He shook his head, not able to conceive his smile. Maybe she was right after all, maybe there was hope for Merlin. Percival had listen to the exchange in disbelief, dumbfounded that such an easy mistake had made it to the Crown Court. Gwen was biting her bottom lips, clearly overjoyed at the new turn the trial was taking. With Sefa loosing credibility on the line, it meant that the prosecution was resting on Mordred now, and he was standing alone against them. Gaius stared at Tristan as he was leaving the stand, astonished by the proud smile the man was wearing, clearly in full knowledge of what just happened, despite playing all innocent and pleading an honest mistake. The old man nodded to him, a silent thanks, at which the expert reciprocated with a nonchalant gesture.

None of them saw Merlin burying his face in his palms. Hope was the last thing he wanted. He refused to nurture even the smallest glimpse of possibility of freedom. 

“The court is adjourned for the day. Tomorrow is a new day, and I wish for both parties to come prepared. Thank you.” The bailiff ordered the room the stand as the judge exited the room. Sefa's mistake was on everybody’s lips as the court room was getting empty. Two guards from Woodworm’s Prison escorted Merlin outside. 

Now standing on the pavement, Leon, Percival, Gwen and Gaius were visibly tired. It had only been the first day, and they knew they still had to face plenty more. 

“Who is due to testify tomorrow?” Percival asked. 

“Normally, it should be Merlin. His testimony might last for two days, if he did accept to testify, that is.” Leon replied. 

“Can he refuse?” Gwen inquired. She didn’t really know if she wanted to hear Merlin. She was conflicted, not ready to hear his take on the events, but consumed by the desire to see justice served and therefore, Merlin had to speak up. 

“Yes. He has the right to remain silent. I am actually expecting him to not testify.” 

The four of them were now walking down the streets. Gaius held himself on Percival for every step. They stop at a high end café, and were politely escorted to a table by the window. Gwen and Gaius sat down on the comfy bench while Leon and Percival sat opposite them on the chairs. An overly cheerful waitress stopped at their table to take their order. Gwen settled down for an herbal tea, while Gaius and Leon both went for green tea. Despite three judgemental glares, Percival ordered a beer. 

“What do you mean Leon? You don’t believe Merlin will want to give his side of the story?” Gwen continued.   
Leon passed a hand through his hair and exhaled loudly. 

“How could he?” his reply was met with two confused groans from Gwen and Percival. Gaius took of the tea bag from his cup. 

“I think Leon is concerned about legal issues.” The old man dived in the inside pocket of his jacket and retrieved a plaque of tablets. He popped two of them in his shaky hand, and swallowed them with a sip of tea. “ By that, I mean that some parts of the story will have to be left out. The CD-Rom has been given a dismissal, with prejudice I believe?” Leon nodded to confirm the old man was right. “ So this matter can not be discussed in court. The portfolio, the ring, any of it would be subjected to an objection. And by not being allowed to talk about it, I don’t see what Merlin could say that would even remotely make sense.” 

“But can’t that case be re opened? Surely, this is part of this trial. It has to be included.” Gwen was shocked by the justice system of her country. It was supposed to be fair and impartial but here they were, door closing right in their face in the name of Justice. 

“No. It can not. I’m sorry. And Merlin is not allowed to bring up Uther's murder either. The case isn’t officially closed, and it is considered a separate investigation, from a different jurisdiction which refused to acknowledge any tie to this case.”

“But without bringing up these facts, then the whole case doesn’t make any sense.” Percival was trying to collect his thoughts as he spoke. “ I mean, without acknowledging the ring and Uther, there is no reason for Arthur to be in Camlot, no reason for Cenred to be at the Crown that evening, and following the prosecution theory stating that Merlin was the sole perpetrator : there is no reason for Merlin to have murdered them. You can’t convict someone who doesn’t have a motive, right?” 

Leon let out a small chuckle and stirred his tea. “ Not if the prosecution is pleading a moment of madness, a nervous breakdown or whatever they want to call it. Merlin overworked himself, and one day, he could not handle it any more and started to open fire in the Crown. No need to justify why the victims were there. Plus, that theory doesn’t make Merlin insane enough to avoid a trial.” 

“Bullshit.” Gwen quickly placed a hand before her lips, her words having left her mouth before she could even think. 

“You are totally right though.” Groaned Percy, downing his beer in one go. 

“So whether Merlin testify or not, it’s basically down to you guys. You are all witnesses in this case, so it’s important that your stories are telling the same thing. Hopefully, we can win the judge over by three witnesses against one, even if Mordred is part of the police force.” Leon finally stated, dropping a tenner on the table. “I’m sorry, but I really need to rest. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8am alright?”. He put his jacket back on and left, almost in a rush. He was only part of the audience in this trial, despite having lost two of his friends. He had barely came to term with the fact that Lance would never rest in peace, and he had no role to play for Arthur. He felt guilty to be overcome, knowing he did not have to see them dying before his eyes. He was not getting any closure, and he was the only one who could actually doubt Merlin's innocence, and he hated himself for it. 

_____ 

On the second day of the trial, they got hit by the familiarity of the building, as if they were caught in a time loop. The same people, the same time, the same spot on the bench, the same smell, the same mascaraed of standing and sitting, the same knot in their stomach. 

  
Judge Morgause stood up and addressed the court. 

“Mr Merlin Emrys will testify. We are asking Miss Thomas, Mr Borden and Mr DeGulis to leave the court. You will be called back in for your own testimony. Thank you.” 

Percival and Gwen helped Gaius on his feet, not without glancing at Leon who tried to comfort them with a soft smile. On their way out, they met Merlin's eyes, and it had send a chill down their spine. He was standing tall as the two guards escorted him to the stand, but he looked cold and stern. Flashes of Merlin bouncing behind the bar at the Crown passed by Gwen's mind, and she swallowed a sob. The world had ruined Merlin, and yet he was the one who would pay for it. 

The bailiff approached him but he declined the Bible. How could he even believe in a god? His whole life had been a tragedy even the Greeks would not have dared to write. And if there was a God indeed, then he would have a lengthy discussion with them, as he could not see the purpose of his own existence anymore. Some could say it was the Devil’s doing, but Merlin knew the Devil was only the name we like to give to people whose acts are beyond horrific. They are no god, no devil, only the open theatre that life was, and he never got to choose his part. 

“Please state your name.” Merlin turned his gaze to the bailiff, snapping back to the present time. He was exhausted. 

“Merlin Emrys.” 

“You may be seated.” He had not even realised he was still standing. His whole body and mind were numb. Over the last years, he had felt anger, unfairness, rage, denial, depression but today, on the stand, he just felt empty. For a split second, he wondered if it was all worth it. He spotted Leon in the crowd, and could not take his eyes off of him. He took a deep breath, and promised himself that no matter what the verdict would be, he would make sure that no disgrace would fall upon his late friends. 

Annis had quite a thick folder before her eyes, and she opened it to the first page. 

“Mr Emrys, when did you move to Camlot?” 

“Nine years ago.” 

“And where were you living before?” 

“I had spent eleven years in London, and before that, ten years in Ealdor.” 

“And what were doing in Camlot?” 

“I was the owner of a pub, the Crown.” He slightly flinched at the name, hearing himself saying it for the first time in years. 

“Did you know the victims?” Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. 

“Yes. Gwaine- Mr Greene, was a patron at the pub. Miss LeFay was my landlady. I had meet Mr Pendragon a week before... his passing. I knew Cenred Fyrien for sixteen years, the only one I knew from my time in London.” From the corner of his eyes, he could see Sefa taking notes. He had went over his testimony with Annis numerous times, making sure to not say anything which would earn them an objection, but clear enough so that the judge could fill up the blanks for herself. 

“What were the nature of the relationships?” 

“I considered Mr Greene to be a friend, a good friend.” He could not stop thinking about Percival. He had seen how the man was only the shadow of himself now, and he barely managed to contain his tears. “Morgana and I had bonded over our separate times in London, as we happened to know the same places, and same people. She felt like a big sister to me.” His eyes dropped to his feet, as the memory of Morgana came rushing back to him. She had finally put her life together, just be taken out of this world in the blink of an eye. He kept seeing Mordred, pulling the trigger with no hesitation. She had fallen, her glass shattering on the floor. Her mouth kept spitting blood, painting her face with the shade she so deeply adored, in an horrific tableau of shock. All he could hear at that moment was Arthur's voice, ringing with rage. She was your mother Mordred. She had cried over the thought of losing you. You had no right- and his voice had cracked. No one was moving anymore. It was an execution. They had come in the pub, fire arms in hands, while they only had their hopes and convictions to fight back. Two bodies were now laying on the floor. Merlin was shaking. Gwen’s eyes were fixed where Morgana once stood, frozen in time. Gaius was holding Cenred's gaze, silently pleading him to stop it. And Arthur was...Arthur. He had not moved when the gun had fired, instead, he stood even taller, not letting transpire any sign of fear. But Merlin knew that Arthur must have been terrified. He must have been. “ Arthur and I were...acquaintances. He had come to the Crown the Monday prior to...and we became friends. And Cenred had been a... ghost from the past. Our relationship had been complicated, for years. When he arrived that night, we had spent five years without a word between us.” He had weighted each words with great care, but his voice had trembled on his last sentence. He had to minimise the events that took place between Cenred and himself, and the fact that he had to implicitly say they were in a relationship almost made him sick. 

“That evening, was there anyone else present at the scene?” 

“Yes. Miss Thomas, Mr Borden and Mr DeGulis, who were all regulars. And Mordred MacMarbh. He had arrived alongside Cenred that evening.” 

“Are you saying that Mr MacMarbh arrived before the first shot was fired?” 

“I am saying that Mordred opened fire first.” Leon let out a breath he was not aware he was holding back. A collective gasp could be heard emanating from the audience. Not only did Merlin accepted to testify, he was also prepared, and his story was well rounded. Leon had been impressed by the conviction with which Merlin had said those words, and he had no doubt that if Merlin was going down this road, he had the whole thing prepared. After all, Merlin might succeed to tell the story despite the omission he was subjected to.

“Do you believe that Mr MacMarbh and Mr Fyrien knew each other ?” 

“ I believed they had a certain relationship going on indeed. It is in my understanding that Mordred had been in contact with Cenred in the past, and it seemed that they got involved beyond Mordred apparent undercover investigation.” 

“And what happened next Mr Emrys?” 

“Mordred threaten myself and Art- Mr Pendragon. I believe to prove us he was serious, he...shot down Mr Greene, before opening fire on Miss LeFay, killing both of them.” 

“And why would that be?” 

“As I said, Cenred and I were involved in the past. I am not able to tell you what went through Mordred's mind at that moment, but I believe he felt threatened, afraid to lose the man he loved.” Merlin was trying his best to make his words believable. Leon nodded calmly, seeing where Merlin was going. He had to admit it was a clever twist, implying that the whole thing went down simply because of jealousy. It was risky, but it might just work. 

“So now, Mr Greene and Miss LeFay are dead. What happens next?” Leon tensed a bit at the bluntness of Annis' words, but he knew that leaving no room for misunderstanding was part of the ordeal. 

“Mr Pendragon then tries to bring Mordred to senses. At that moment, he stands between Mordred and myself. He takes a step forward and tried to disarm Mordred. I don’t know if Cenred was scared, felt threatened or if the bullets were fired by accident, but he shoot at Mr Pendragon.” He could still hear the gunshots. Arthur looked back at him before dropping on the floor, holding his chest. He was out of breath and wincing. Cenred dropped his gun. To that day, Merlin could still see the expression of the man : remorseful. And to that day, Merlin could still not comprehend it. He had always knew Cenred to be coldhearted, but in that moment, the man was pale and almost shocked at his own actions. And in this tiny window of humanity, Merlin had seized the gun from the floor and had shoot him, three times. He had lost all controlled and had beaten up the dead body for what seemed to be hours in his mind. Behind him, he could hear Percival breaking down, the reality finally sinking in his mind. Gwen gasped, her hand bloodied, as she realised a bullet was lodged in her stomach. Gaius was immobile, as of his mind had refused to comprehend what had happened. “Mr Pendragon fell and passed away shortly after. One of the bullet had hit miss Thomas, which I believed was a mistake from Cenred. He looked at her and that’s when I seized the gun from him. I had never held a firearm in my life before that moment. I fired three shots by accident and killed Cenred.” Merlin’s eyes were now drown in tears, and he passed a hand through his hair, shaken. Leon could not discern if it was an act, to make himself appear really remorseful, or if Merlin was really crumbling before the court.

“Mr Emrys, would you like us to take a moment?” Judge Morgause inquired, her tone still blank. 

“No.” He breathed out, rubbing his palms on his knees. 

Annis nodded calmly, and carried on. 

“Did you confess to the crimes to Mr MacMarbh?” 

“I did not.” 

“Did you murder Mr Greene?”

“I did not.”

“Did you murder miss LeFay?”

“I did not.” 

“Did you murder Mr Pendragon?”

“I did not.” 

“Did you murder Mr Fyrien?” 

“I did. Involuntarily.” 

Annis turned back to the judge. “That would be all your Honor.” She sat down again, not showing any signs of early victory. She knew it would all come down to Sefa’s cross examination. 

“Does the prosecution has any questions?” 

“Yes, your Honor.” Sefa replied as she stood up, flattening her pencil skirt with her palms. She glanced at the notes she had taken during Merlin's testimony and nodded to herself. 

“Mr Emrys, would you mind to elaborate the subject of your relation with Cenred Fyrien please?” she had a smirked glued to her face. Annis looked at her from the corner of her eyes, only to be submerged with thoughts she’d rather never have. Sefa was young, young enough to be a product of the ring. Annis just hoped she was wrong. If Cenred had Mordred in Scotland yard, and had groomed other kids to become lawyers, or politicians or anything else, this battle would then never end. He would have planted a seed in every corner of the city, and even if they succeeded to take one down, dozens of others would still keep the web going. 

“Like I said, we had a past. We were romantically involved for a few years in London. I broke it off.” Merlin felt sick to his stomach. He kept trying to visual the bigger picture, trying to convince himself that he could do more good if he was walking free, but in that moment, he just wanted to stop everything. He did not even know what’s the next step would be if was released. Would Mordred put a price on his head? Would he find enough evidence to bring the ring up to court? All he ever did was for the kids, but right now in the stand, he just wanted everything to come to an end, for himself. A final selfish act of taking his own life and reach the peace he so long desired. He bashed himself mentally, hearing the voices of his friends telling him he was not selfish for wanting to end everything, that’s it was only human, but they never understood. They never understood him. Even if they have tried. 

“Did you leave on good terms?” 

“It had been a chaotic split up. And I thought that after almost six years, he had moved on, but I was wrong.” 

“Mr Emrys, are you implying that Mr Fyrien came to Camlot that evening because of your shared history?” Sefa inquired. Merlin stared at her, like Annis did previously. The way she was speaking, the way she was choosing her words made Merlin eerie of the young woman. It did not only feel like she knew, but like she was part of it. In that moment, she was not the Prosecutor anymore, she had become the defendant of Cenred and all what he represented. But it seemed that only the three of them realised what was happening. To the rest of the court, those words meant what they were supposed to mean but to Merlin, Annis and Sefa, it was all only euphemisms and subtext. 

“Yes. As you may know, Mr Pendragon and Mr MacMarbh were colleagues, if not friends, at Scotland Yard. In the days preceding the events, Mr Pendragon and I had become closer." He stopped himself from touching his lips, the ghost of Arthur's kiss still painfully present. He could never say if he had loved the DI, or if he had been emotionally shattered in those times. But if he knew one thing, it was that he would give anything to share at least one more day with Arthur. The guilt he felt upon Gwaine's death was fed by the unfairness of Mordred's action. But the guilt he felt for Arthur's was deeper than that, all coming back to the night he had killed Uther. It took him years to make peace with his actions at the Essetir, only to be reminded that it is such action that precipitated the Crown massacre. If he had not been young, and impulsive, then maybe, maybe, they would all still be alive. Arthur would have carried on his career and might have even become a superintendent, Gwaine and Percival would have developed their business and maybe they could have restored Camlot’s castle, Gaius would have kept helping Morgana and she could have finally open the museum she so deeply wanted. In this scenario, he would have been the only victim, probably dead by now, but everybody would get to live. And maybe, as the weight of the years were pressing down on Uther's shoulder, the man would have found the courage to confront Cenred and stop everything. But it was only “ifs”, and it was too late. There was no coming back, he had killed Uther and now, more blood tainted his hands and his soul. “ And I believe that Mordred might have let Cenred know about...Arthur and I, which brought the man on the verge of madness.” 

“This is all based on your assumption that Mr Fyrien and Mr MacMarbh were involved though, isn’t it Mr Emrys?” 

“Correct.” Merlin politely nodded to Sefa. 

“But you can not prove it, and Mr MacMarbh is denying the existence of such a relationship.” Sefa was smug, if not cocky, which made Merlin almost roll his eyes. But she was right, he could not prove his claims. 

“And, according to your theory Mr Emrys,” she grabbed her notes to ensure she was getting the facts straight, “Mordred opened fire on Mr Greene and then Miss LeFay. Even if you were correct, and it all came down to a quarrel between past and present lovers, why would Mr MacMarbh kill two seemingly innocent people, whose only mistake were to be patrons at your pub?” she proudly placed her notes back on her desk and raised an almost mocking eyebrow. Leon pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, before rubbing his hands together. This was emotionally draining, and despite having years of experience in the court, having witnessed more than one trial, he genuinely had no idea of the outcome of this one. He was trying not to get his hopes too high, but Merlin was serving a pretty solid defense, only to be met with an equally solid cross examination. 

“I believe that Mordred got overwhelmed. We had never met before that night, and I think that when he saw me, he had felt like a replacement. Not to imply that Cenred was still emotionally involved with me, but when Mordred had seen me, I could see he felt almost betrayed. It is not uncommon for people to have a type, some physical traits they are more attracted to. I think Mordred believed Cenred had chosen him, because he could not get me. I believe he felt diminished, relayed to the rank of a look alike, and it had deeply shaken him. But these are just speculation, I do not pretend to know what went on in his mind, but this is how I felt on the moment.” 

Annis hid a smile. Merlin was witty and quick on his words. And she knew that no one could deny their resemblance. It was not a perfect explanation, but for a spontaneous answer, in the witness box before the court, it had been a quick interesting thought. She also mentally thanked him for being really careful with his choice of words, highlighting the fact that it was only his opinion, and that he did not claimed to know the truth. And judging by Sefa's frown, she had not expected Merlin to come back on his feet so easily. And the young woman would never admit it, but she believed his words were closer to the truth than Mordred might want to admit. The constable had actually refused to be present for the rest of the trial, which seemed to only make Merlin more confident. 

“You said that you had shot Mr Fyrien by accident. He got shot three times Mr Emrys.” 

“I have no knowledge on the subject. All I know, is that three bullets got fired but I did not mean to. After the first shot, my panic only increased, and I totally lost control of the weapon. I knew guns are supposed to have a safety guard or something, but I could not think straight, and my hands were shaking, and I could smell the gunpowder and Cenred dropped dead and...” Merlin stopped mid sentence, hiccuping with sobs. 

“Well, according to the autopsy report. Folder C, page 4 your Honor, Mr Fyrien showed sign of physical violence, post mortem. Mr MacMarbh also said he had to physical restrain you.” The judge looked at the report before turning to Merlin, clearly expecting an explanation. 

“Mr MacMarbh and Mr DeGulis did restrain me. When I realised what had happened, I rushed towards Cenred and tried to perform CPR. I also believed I slapped him to try to bring him back to consciousness. All I remember is Percival's voice, begging me to stop.” And it was only half a lie. Percival had ordered him to stop, almost as if the whole situation had suddenly downed on the giant, and he just wanted all to stop. Mordred could not speak, helping Percival to contain Merlin. The eyes of the young man were glued on the body of his lover, and for a split second, he had appeared shattered. Merlin guessed that Mordred had never thought, not even once, that Cenred might not ever go back to London. 

“I have no further questions, your Honor.” Sefa stated to the judge, before sitting down again. She was clearly annoyed my Merlin's testimony. She knew what really happened that evening, and the fact that Merlin had come up with a solid alternative to the truth left her unsure of the outcome. Since the trial had started, she was convinced that Mordred would have the upper hand, but it seemed they had both underestimated Merlin. She glanced at her notes, knowing that her next move would be to discredit any further witnesses the Defence would call. There was no way that Merlin could walk free, she would make sure of it. The sake of their business depended on it. 

The two guards escorted Merlin back to the glass box at the back of the room. At no point he had showed any signs if arrogance. He was just looking miserable, and Leon felt guilty for ever doubting his innocence. He knew that the facts laid in court today were twisted to fit a certain narrative, from both side, but unlike Mordred, Merlin truly looked affected by the events. He could not even start to think about what was going through Merlin's mind. His guts only told him to ask Annis to place Merlin on suicide watch, afraid this was all getting too much for the young man. 

“I would like to call Miss Thomas to the stand, your Honor.” Annis spoke, getting an other stack of paper ready. The judge nodded as the bailiff exited the room to call Gwen back in. The young woman was clearly nervous when she took her oath, her eyes locked on Merlin. She had no idea about what had been said earlier, but Leon gave her an encouraging smile. Her hands were sweaty as she sat down. 

“Please state your name.” 

“Gwen Thomas.” 

“And what are you doing for a living?” 

“I am currently a bakery owner. But I used to be a social worker at the time of the ...massacre.” Her voice broke on those last words. In four years, she had tried her best to always avoid the subject, only talking in euphemism, but today she would have to face the facts. Her throat was dry as she caught Sefa taking notes. 

“How do you know Mr Emrys?” Annis carried on.

“I used to stop by the Crown regularly, and with time, we became friends.” 

“And were present at the scene on Sunday evening?” 

“I was, yes.” Her heart was beating out of her chest, as she mentally prepared to go over the evening. 

“Please Miss Thomas, tell us your version of the events.” Annis’ voice was warm and reassuring, probably aware of Gwen’s stress. The baker took a deep breath and brushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. 

“I was sitting at the bar. Mr Fyrien and Mr MacMarbh entered. I did not know who they were. And it all went down quickly. Mr MacMarbh opened fire on Gwaine and Morgana. A small altercation followed between Arthur and Cendred. Arthur dropped dead. I... At that point, I am laying on the floor.” She instinctively held her side, where the scar from the bullet wound created a circle of pale skin , contrasting sharply with her dark complexion. “I then heard three gun shots, and Cendred fell. Merlin rushed towards him and I believe Mr DeGulis and Mr MacMarbh restrained him.” She was surprised to not have babbled. Her anxiety had shifted into a strange inner peace, her shoulders now more relaxed. She did it, she had testify and by the expression that Annis gave her, she believed she did well. 

“Did you see Mr Emrys firing at Mr Fyrien?” 

“I could only see his back from where I was standing. The honest answer is I don’t know.” 

“But you are certain that constable Mordred MarMarbh was the first one to open fire ?” 

“Yes.” 

“And he arrived alongside Mr Fyrien that evening?” 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you miss Thomas.” Annis sat down. The judge turned to Sefa who was now standing up, ready to ask her own questions. 

“Miss Thomas, is it true you were injured that evening?” 

“Yes.” 

“Could you please describe to the court the extend of your injuries?” 

“Yes. I had a gun shot wound on the left side of my abdomen.” 

“Now, it came to my knowledge that you had lost a significant amount of blood that evening, am I correct?” Sefa looked like a predator ready to devour an innocent deer. Gwen swallowed anxiously under her gaze. 

“Yes, I did. I had been rushed to the hospital to receive urgent care and blood transfusion.” 

“Is it then possible that you were not in a state to think clearly that evening?” 

“I... I know what I have seen.” Gwen felt like crumbling down, doubting her own memories. She had lost a lot of blood indeed, but she was convinced to have seen Mordred opening fire before she got injured, despite her memories being blurry.

“Your Honor,” Sefa turned to Judge Morgause, “ I believe that Miss Thomas’ testimony should not be taken into account considering her state at the time of the attack.” 

The judge went over Gwen's medical history as the whole court went silent. Gwen stared at Annis in panic, before laying eyes on Merlin. His hands were pressed together as he looked at the floor. 

“Miss Thomas is dismissed as a viable witness.” Gwen gasped faintly, sending an apologetic look at Annis. Leon groaned under his breath, his leg bouncing nervously. 

Annis stood up again, hiding away the fact that the judge's descision had taken her aback. 

“I would like to call Mr Borden to the stand.” 

Gwen went to sit at Leon's side, babbling apologies franticly. 

“It’s not your fault Gwen. Don’t blame yourself.” He whispered, squeezing her hand slightly. She could not hold back her silent tears, feeling like she had left every body down. She had been hurt after Mordred had opened fire, her recollection of those events were crystal clear and she was not yet hurt. She could not believe she had been so easily dismissed, and she hated herself for thinking that the judge was biased. But she remembered that Morgause had dismissed the CD-Rom’s case more than a decade ago. It seems this woman was too keen to close her eyes on facts, favouring her own convictions : paedophilia was not a branch of organized crime and a policeman could not be coldblooded killer.

The bailiff helped Gaius across the room. Merlin looked at the historian, and swallowed a sob. He had always considered Gaius to like an uncle to him, and he knew he was like a father to Morgana. This old man who had never asked for anything in exchange of the help he provided. This old man who could spend hours, sitting in the pub, talking about lore and art or anything that would make Merlin smile.

Gaius’ hands were shaking with tremors and he clearly could not walk unassisted anymore. 

“Please state your name.” 

“Gaius Borden.” His voice was short of breath and as shaky as his hands. 

“What are you doing for a living?” 

“I am a retired librarian.” His breathing was even more erratic now. Leon looked worryingly around him : something was not right.

Annis stood up, her eyes locked on her documents as she asked her first question. 

“Were you here the night of the murders?”

“I was indeed.” The old man replied, his own eyes looking at the ground. He took a deep breath, or tried to. 

“Could you please tell us your version of-"

Merlin jumped on his feet as Gaius collapsed, before being slammed down back on his chair by one of the guards. 

Everybody came to a stop, few seconds of shock that seemed like an eternity.

The bailiff jumped into the witness box, checking the vitals of the old man. 

“He is having a heart attack, someone call an ambulance!” 

Annis was already on the phone as Leon joined Gaius. He sat back the historian and loosened his tie. 

“Gaius, it’s going to be alright. Hold on. Help is on the way.” Leon was calm, a strange contrast comparing to the room panicked murmurs. 

“Don’t...” Gaius breathed out, reaching for Leon's hand. “Let...me...” 

“No. You are not going to die today. Don’t you dare.” He turned to the room. “Someone gives me some aspirin, now!” he shouted. The rumble of few hands looking into handbags echoed in the room and a woman rushed to the stand. 

“Here sir!” Leon snatched the aspirin and turned back to Gaius. 

“Chew on it slowly okay?” but the old man refused to open his mouth, shaking his head. “Please Gaius.” He begged, his eyes watering. Merlin was pressed down on his chair, his voice breaking into heart breaking cries. His whole body was shaking and he was coughing, chocking over his own distress. 

Gwen had rushed back out to call Percy, and the giant ran to the stand, pushing Leon aside. “Gaius!” But the old man was not responsive anymore. “He stopped breathing. Leon!”. The two men laid Gaius down. Percy discarded his suit jacket on the side and started to perform CPR. 

“He's in cardiac arrest!” He shouted to Leon over his shoulder.

“Where’s the ambulance!” Leon shouted to the room. 

“There should be defibrillator in the building, someone get it!” Percy barked at the crowd, his hands pressing Gaius’ chest in rhythm. One of the security man kneeled next to him, the portative defibrillator in hand. “Come on Gaius. Come on.” Percy prayed as he unbuttoned the old man shirt. The giant threw the security man on side, who was going over the instruction. Instead, he grabbed the machine and administered one shock. “Come on.” 

An other shock. 

“You’re not dying today you old goat.” Percy growled between his teeth. 

He was pushed on the side by a medical professional, realising only now that the ambulance had arrived. He stayed helpless on the floor as Gaius was placed on the stretcher, three people surrounding him. Gwen followed them and jumped in the emergency vehicle. 

Judge Morgause tried to get the room to calm down before adjourning the hearing. Leon helped Percy on his feet, both men drained from all energy. 

“He'll pull through Percy.” Leon said, more to himself than to the giant. 

Merlin had been escorted out, three guards holding him. He was a mess, and his desperate howling were resonating in the room long after he had gone. Annis was sitting at her desk, her face buried in her hands, tears pearling in her eyes. Sefa had left. 

“Every body, leave the room please.” The bailiff ordered, gesturing to the exit. 

Percival and Leon sat at the cafeteria, in silence. 

“After his diagnosis,” Percy finally spoke after a while, “Gaius made be sign an Advance Decision[1] as a witness.” He looked at the floor, twisting his fingers anxiously. He took a deep inhale, his eyes red. 

Leon did not reply. He ran his palm through his hair instead, barely able to accept the situation. He knew that Percy always considered Gaius to be like family. And he felt helpless. 

Percival could not accept to lose Gaius as well. He had lost Gwaine, he had lost Merlin, it would only be unfair to lose Gaius as well. For the first time in four years, he did not fancy a drink. He just wanted everything to stop. 

“Gwaine, Arthur, Morgana, Lance and now Gaius? Why Leon? What have we done to deserve that? What is wrong with this world?” he bluntly spoke, his voice lacking emotions. Years of anger and guilt had tired him to the point he just became an empty shell. He had reached his breaking point. He almost wished that Mordred would lived a long life, waking up every morning knowing that Cenred was gone. He wished for every body to stay alive long enough to be consumed like he had. 

“I don’t know.” Leon felt stupid, lost for words. Nothing made sense to him anymore. Life, Death, and everything inbetween had lost all appeal. 

“Two years.” Percy started, his head still down. “I served in the army for two years. Life is not supposed to be worse than a battlefield.” The giant stood up and slowly paced around. Leon had nothing to answer. 

Annis walked to them, her eyes still puffed. She asked if Gwen had given them any news but they had heard nothing more so far. She clenched her fist around her mobile phone. Behind her, the judge could be heard talking loudly to someone, claiming it could not be true as he had just left the courtroom a few minutes ago.

“Percy, sit down please.” She was now crying. She was not looking like the strong professional she was anymore. Her hair was messy, her make up was flaking, and her hand in which she was still holding her cellphone, was trembling. 

Percival grabbed a seat and she did the same. She took a deep breath. 

“There is no more trial.” She had expelled those words like someone would ripped a band aid. As she had kept talking, Percival had crumbled. Leon had buried his face in his arms. 

At the hospital, Gwen had held Gaius’ hand one last time as the doctor called the time of death. 

London woke up the next day, groggy. People were passing by the kiosks, sighing. Merlin's picture staring at the whole city. 

_“Mr Emrys avoids trial by committing suicide._   
_Following the death of Gaius Borden from natural causes yesterday, Merlin Emrys took his own life. Two guards found the body at Woodworm prison, where he was currently held on remand. The autopsy states that no foul play is too be suspected.”_

And London carried on Her daily life. Days, weeks, months and years passed, and slowly, the name of Merlin Emrys had been forgotten, once again. 

But if only the city knew that Merlin had taken his own life by stabbing himself five times – _in the back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End. 
> 
> [1] It's an equivalent of "do not resuscitate" 
> 
> This has been a journey to write but I am proud to have finished it and to share it with you. 
> 
> Lance, Gwaine, Morgana, Arthur, Cenred, Gaius and Merlin... Well, that's that. 
> 
> Is it a cliffhanger? Will there be more? No. This is actually the end : Merlin being murdered, no one paying for their crime but the innocents, and Life carrying on as if nothing happened. 
> 
> I love you all, and I'll you on an other fic! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter. 
> 
> A massive thank you to Under This Rain, my fanfiction companion for more than eight years now, newly promoted to beta.


End file.
